


This is Who I'm Meant to Be

by deareststars



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Smut, P.T. Barnum is definitely a father figure to Phillip, Period-Typical Sexism, Phillip Carlyle Needs a Hug, Phillip's parents are horrible people and I hate them, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, charity barnum is a saint, lol there are going to be more characters I don't know when exactly though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deareststars/pseuds/deareststars
Summary: Growing up a female while also in the lower class was never easy. Whatever you wanted to do was immediately shut down by the 'stronger, more capable' men, which was a shame considering your one dream was to join a performing group of sorts and be the show stopper. So, what happens when a certain P.T. Barnum happens upon you in a bar late at night?





	1. A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, the Greatest Showman has officially consumed my life and so has Phillip Carlyle/Zac Effron in general. So, here's a rather rushed story that's obviously going to be continuing, even if no one reads it and it dies in a hole because this is a guilty pleasure c:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You head to a bar, dressed in what you deemed your 'male disguise,' and after arriving you realize that there's someone in there that's far more deserving of your attention than the bartender.

“Phineas Taylor Barnum, or Phineas for short. It’s too formal to call me by anything else, Miss…”

 

You smiled and bowed, introducing yourself. “I’m rather impressed you managed to see that I’m a female under this _clever_ ruse.” You had pinned your hair underneath a hat and wore one of your brother’s old suits, glad for your boyish form. You were in the mood for a drink, not for more sexism or the ‘macho men’ that came up to try and woo you.

 

Phineas chuckled. “Forgive me for saying this, but your face is just feminine, too much for a feminine man.” You shrugged, not taking offense to the comment, and he continued. “Regardless, I’ve heard that you have a flair for show business.”

 

“That I do.” With a quick flourish of your hand, you pulled a cane out of the sleeve of your suit. You twirled it, hid it, and pretended as if nothing had happened. “But I must say, Phineas, what brought you out here in the middle of the night? Don’t you have something, like say...a circus to run?”

 

“Oh, I should’ve known my fame precedes me before I even arrive.” The sentence might’ve made you back away but instead, you were drawn in by his good-natured humor, which made you opt to call the bartender over and bring two shots of whiskey. You passed one over to Phineas and he held it up to you, downing it before clearing his throat.

 

“In any case - by the way, it’s only nine, not the middle of the night - I’ve decided to give up the job of ringmaster and pass it to my overcompensated apprentice, a man by the name of Phillip B. Carlyle.”

 

“Interesting, the playwright?” Phineas nodded and you passed the shot through your lips, savoring the burn as it went down easy and settled in your stomach. You and Phineas sat down and you put the glass on the bar. “I’d only imagine the hardship you must’ve gone through to convince him to literally run away and join the circus.”

 

“It wasn’t too difficult,” Phineas replied off-handedly. “He’d agreed to come to this very bar for a couple drinks and I managed to persuade him through an oddity of a musical number. His wit is rather immeasurable.”

 

You chuckled. “I can only imagine; given the depth of his plays he must have quite the silver tongue.” It was no secret you were a rather big fan of the fine arts, and when Mr. Carlyle had come through town earlier this year to present one of his plays, you’d been impressed. What had seemed to be a simple play about an orphan boy turned out to be even more than that, twisting your heart into a pretzel as you struggled to hold back tears. Not only was it emotional as hell, but it also seemed to be satirical of the elite and the ones that had attended seemed to notice, given their grumbles as they exited the theater.

 

“Yes, he almost managed to convince me to run away and join the higher class.” You snorted; the idea of _the_ P.T. Barnum wearing a fancy suit and trading idle talk with the ‘nobility’ of New York was ridiculous, and he seemed to notice it as well, considering the chuckle he gave.

 

“But you were saying, about passing on the job of ringmaster to Mr. Carlyle?”

 

That snapped Phineas back to the present. “Ah, yes, I’d almost forgotten.” He cleared his throat again. “Well, it’s no secret that every ringmaster needs someone to fall back upon when they’re in dire need of assistance, and I’d heard rumors about a certain woman wandering around New York that entertained the masses with her ‘magic’ of sorts.”

 

“The tales some people weave,” you said with a fond smile. “But yes, you heard correctly. I’m rather fond of magic and the like; the added money and the occasional shows here and there were just a bonus.”

 

He nodded and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you to him. _“Right here, right now, I put the offer out. I don’t wanna chase you down, I know you see it.”_

 

You rolled your eyes and pushed Phineas’ hand off your shoulder before he could continue and attempt to get you off-guard and completely drunk. “You don’t need to convince me like you did Mr. Carlyle, Phineas,” you teased. “I come from no rich and noble family. In fact, the mother that did give birth to me passed years ago and her husband left with her death, so I have no family to come from regardless. It’s always been my dream to join a bunch of lunatics, anyway.”

 

He grinned at your last sentence but winced at what came before. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

You waved him off and stood up. “So, where may I find this elusive Phillip Carlyle, assuming he’s not hidden away in his office somewhere, constructing more plays? I doubt he’d be happy about his former mentor grabbing an apprentice for him, much less a woman.”

 

“He’s an oddity, I doubt he’ll mind looking at such a _pretty_ face.” You swatted his arm and Phineas simply smiled, offering you that same limb. You looped an arm through his, playing along. He produced a bill from his vest pocket and lay it on the counter before dragging you along.

 

Immediately, you knew where he was going. The distant calls of boats off the shore was rather obvious. “How stupid of me to think the ringmaster would be anywhere else,” you said with a chuckle, gazing fondly at the circus tent that seemed to hover like a protective giant above the docks.

 

Phineas took you inside the tent, right into what seemed to be a full rehearsal. Almost immediately you were taken and smitten by the show that presented itself in front of you. Trapeze artists flew through the air, fire breathers blew angry flames around the dancing and singing crowd in the center ring, and in the midst of it all, a striking young man in a red coat led the show.

 

_“This is the greatest show!”_

 

He twirled his cane with a flourish and angled it back behind his head, his other arm parallel to its path. The circus members behind him finished out the show and he threw his hat up into the air, spinning twice before catching it and falling to his knees, head bowed.

 

Phineas clapped loudly and the performers looked up in glee, all screaming his name and barrelling toward him. You quickly stepped out of the way and watched with curiosity as the crowd all interacted loudly with him, calling out random things and names that held no meaning but the tone they took made it almost seem like they were all family.

 

A hand touched your shoulder gently and you spun, eyes wide. “Oh, my apologies.” It was the handsome brunet from before and you noticed that his hat and cane were cast off, as well as his red coat, leaving him in a sweat-soaked and white dress shirt. His eyes focused on you, and you felt a flit of concern for this stranger as you saw that he seemed troubled and not all quite there. “I’d noticed you come in with Barnum. I hope he didn’t rope another innocent bystander into our catastrophe of a show?”

 

His last sentence was directed toward the older man, and the crowd all looked over at the younger one with odd expressions of glee. “Why, Carlyle, I didn’t think you’d be that sick of the show already, considering you’d just been singing your heart out,” Phineas quipped back.

 

“It’s charming, of course, but once you came in it immediately lost all its magic,” the man you now knew to be Mr. Carlyle retorted. Phineas’ face erupted into a wide smile and so did Mr. Carlyle’s as the two walked toward each other and embraced. Rather than that of a lover’s it seemed more like a father to a son and you wondered just how much had happened in the time frame that they’d known each other.

 

Phineas noticed you standing there, looking lost, and pulled away from his ‘overcompensated apprentice,’ as you remember him calling the brunet. “Right, Phillip, I have someone to _properly_ introduce you to.” He clapped a hand on Mr. Carlyle’s shoulder and made a gesture toward you with his hand, which naturally turned into the other performers looking over at you curiously. You introduced yourself, waving sheepishly.

 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Carlyle said courteously, adding the ‘Miss’ to the beginning of your name just as Phineas had. “I wonder how Barnum managed to convince you to come out, what with his God-awful mouth and whatever comes out of it.”

 

You waved his concern off. “He’s not the worst, but he’s certainly not the best.” You fixated the man in question with a raised eyebrow and he held up his hands in mock surrender.

 

A smile flickered over his lips as Mr. Carlyle looked over at Phineas, the embarrassment from his slip-up replaced by curiosity. “I know you didn’t introduce this beautiful young woman to me just to set me up with someone, right?” Your blush returned at the use of ‘beautiful’ but neither took notice.

 

“On the contrary, my good friend,” Phineas said with a smile, “she has quite the flair for show business, and I noticed you hadn’t picked an apprentice yet for you to fall back on.”

 

The ringmaster’s gaze flicked back to you and you smiled. None of the sexism you’d first thought would appear was in his eyes; on the contrary, he looked even more curious now that your purpose was revealed.

 

You were back in your element now and you nodded toward the cane and hat, grateful for the return of control. “May I borrow those to give you an example?” You knew that Phineas was aware of the cane you had hidden away but he didn’t say anything, instead giving Mr. Carlyle a glance.

 

The brunet nodded. “Of course, go ahead.”

 

With all the performers’ eyes on you, you walked over to the edge of the ring and picked up the hat and cane, making a show of brushing the dust off and giving their owner an exasperated look. You were glad that you earned a few chuckles from the ‘audience’ and made sure to associate faces with voices - a bearded lady that the others seemed close to, a young man dressed in a general costume that was far shorter than the rest, and what seemed to be an Irishman that certainly made the ‘General’ even shorter.

 

You put the hat on and cleared your throat, composing yourself. You’d performed like this before - it might’ve been in front of a smaller crowd, granted, but the electric atmosphere was quite the same. Remembering to breathe, you started, your voice a soft-spoken alto that made many of the performers turn their heads.

 

_You stumble through your days._

_Got your head hung low_

_Your skies a shade of gray._

 

_Like a zombie in a maze_

_You’re asleep inside_

_But you can shake awake._

 

Phineas’ eyebrows shot up again and you knew you impressed him at least with the fact you remembered the words to his song from one of the few circuses you’d allowed yourself to go to.

 

The more you sang the more confident you became, adding more flourishes and turns. In your mind’s eye, you could imagine yourself out on the ring, dancing among these talented performers, fire burning and glitter from outfits making everything sparkle. A smile filled your face and you started getting more into it, wishing you’d had your skirt on so you could feel it billow around you.

 

As you opened your eyes slammed the cane down to begin the pre-chorus, you made eye contact with Mr. Carlyle and you heard your voice catch (it was rather quiet and unnoticeable but you couldn’t hide the wince) as you powered through the last lyric. His eyes were electric blue, a shade you hadn’t see before, and sent a shock through you as thrilling as seeing the crackle of lightning on stormy nights.

 

You let yourself end it there, producing a bouquet of flowers from the same spot your cane from earlier had come, and everyone gawked at you in surprise, except for Phineas, who guffawed loudly. You jokingly threw them at Mr. Carlyle and he surprised you when he caught them and offered you a wink so quickly that you barely even caught it. It faded as quickly as it came but judging by the look of surprise on his face, it really had happened.

 

The performers all clapped for you and the bearded lady hurried over to Mr. Carlyle and Phineas, beckoning you over. You brought the hat and cane over with you, placing them down gently on the floor before turning to the others.

 

“You certainly have a flair,” the lady said, smiling. “My name’s Lettie.” You introduced yourself and you shook her hand. She had a firm grip but wasted no time in turning to the ringmaster. “Well, Carlyle? Are you going to hire her or not? She certainly has a better grip on her ego and sanity, more than the both of you at least.”

 

Mr. Carlyle chuckled and shrugged, not completely confirming nor denying it. You realized everyone here must have a biting tongue; maybe that’s why Phineas had succeeded so much. He turned to you and you met his gaze. “Well?” he prompted. “Would you like to join or not?”

 

You smirked. “I’d _love_ to, Mr. Carlyle.”

 

He smiled and it reached his eyes, making them light up and reminding you of the next verse of the song you’d been singing. “Well then, welcome to the Circus, m’lady. And, just so we’re clear - for this environment, I’d prefer you to call me Phillip.”


	2. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip runs into you at the circus tent, and while talking to you he surprises you with an announcement.

Time flew by the longer you stayed in the circus. Everyone there quickly became your family even though it was only a week and your first show ever was coming up. Lettie and you became like mother and daughter, and while Anne and W.D. seemed skeptical, it didn’t take long for you to befriend them as well - namely, a chance encounter where you stood up for the siblings to the protestors.

 

You let out a mental sigh at the protestors, stopping halfway through your routine with the hat balanced on your hand. You’d had a run-in with them before at one of your small impromptu shows; they were the ones that had berated you, telling you to step down and let the men take over the entertainment. Their eyes, drunk with fury and actual alcohol, communicated exactly what entertainment they were talking about, and you threw down your hat in disgust.

 

Almost immediately, footsteps sounded and you looked up, heart still pounding hard against your chest and your white dress shirt soaked through with sweat. “Phillip,” you breathed in relief, worrying that one of the protestors had managed to sneak in without anyone noticing. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I could say the same to you,” Phillip noted. “Our show doesn’t begin until tonight and you’re here at six in the morning? How long have you been here?”

 

You glanced down at your watch and chuckled. “I guess I lost track of time. I think I got here at around...one? So five hours?”

 

Concern flitted through Phillip’s eyes. “Five hours...Did you get any sleep at all?” You had to think about that one as well - maybe that was why you were so dazed and barely able to keep on your feet - but Phillip didn’t leave any room for argument as he grabbed your arm. “Come on, I’ll let you sleep in the caravan I’m staying in. It’s probably closer than wherever you’re staying.”

 

You nodded. “My apartment is over by the bar. I’m not walking over there, not in this state.” You gestured to your clothing and it seemed that it was only at that moment that Phillip noticed the way your shirt molded against the shape of your bra. He blushed and looked away, waving you off at the sound of your laugh.

 

However, your laughter subsided as you realized Phillip had slowed to a stop. He was staring off to the side, eyebrows knit together, and you traced his gaze to see he was staring at one of the firebreather props. “Phillip?” you asked timidly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He stirred, shook his head, and turned to you, looking about as dazed as you felt.

 

“Oh, my...apologies,” he said, shaking his head again as though waterlogged. “I was...having flashbacks of some sort, I guess. They come and go every so often but even more so after the fire…”

 

You blinked. Of course, everyone had heard about the infamous fire that engulfed their old location - the protestors that had done it made it no secret, going around and pretending they were the heroes - but you had no idea that Phillip had been there when it had happened. “Were you…” You trailed off, and Phillip seemed to understand what you were asking.

 

“Yes,” he said, wringing his hands together in a fit of anxiety that you hadn’t seen him in yet. His Adam’s apple bobbed as though he were thinking about saying something else, but he tried for a smile. “Anyway, you must be exhausted. Come along.”

 

Although you were curious, especially now that he was holding off on telling you something, you dropped the subject and followed him. You noticed that he walked quickly past the props, not casting another glance toward them, and you struggled to keep up with his pace. Only when the both of you got out of the tent did he slow down, and the easygoing smile returned to his face.

 

He explained why the caravan was so far away. “I’m technically their ‘boss’ now, and so I doubted they’d want me breathing down their backs for so often and so long. It’s enough having to deal with me for the rehearsals, and I doubt they’d be able to take my intellect for more than that.” This earned a laugh out of you and he looked pleased with himself. “Not to mention that I carry a bottle of whiskey in there for special occasions and I don’t want any of them getting into my storage. Drunk Charles is an experience I never want to see again.”

 

He pulled open the door to the caravan and followed you inside. To your surprise, it was actually rather cozy. A simple cot was pushed up to the side with just enough space to fit two people laying on their sides, and the infamous whiskey chest was placed next to a desk with papers scattered over it. Phillip was a very organized man - you’d formulated that opinion based off of his work environment - but here he seemed to be more relaxed. You could see billing sheets, what seemed to be a play in progress, and some costume designs that looked to be more mindless scribbles than anything serious.

 

A nightstand sat next to the cot. An oil lamp was placed on top, unlit despite the morning darkness still flooding in through the windows.

 

Phillip checked his watch. “I won’t be expecting you at the rehearsal until around four,” he said, tapping the glass face of the watch. “After all, your show’s going to be the one tomorrow and I’d hate for you to miss out on valuable practice time - “

 

You’d been staring off into space but quickly snapped back to reality as you heard him say that. “Excuse me?” you asked, baffled but at the same feeling a growing excitement. You hoped you hadn’t heard him wrong.

 

He cocked his head. “I mean you’re going to be performing tomorrow with me,” he elaborated. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to be working this hard for a week and not have any sort of payoff, so we - meaning me, Lettie, Barnum, and some of the others - decided to work you into the...show…”

 

Phillip trailed off, seemingly now noticing the wide smile that was decorating your face, as though you were a child on Christmas morning. “R-Really?” you asked, knowing you heard him right but just wanting to make sure.

 

He smiled, confusion etched all over his face. “Umm…yes?” he said, although it sounded more like a question.

 

You clamped a hand over your mouth and let out a squeal. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you said excitedly, bouncing up and down on the bed. Phillip let out a laugh at your happiness, cutting himself off almost suddenly as you jumped up and gave him a hug. He froze, hands hovering above your body, and you giggled. You could practically feel him roll his eyes as his arms settled around you, still a little stiff.

 

“What’s so funny?” he asked defensively. “You just surprised me, is all.”

 

“You hug by th’ book,” you teased. You looked up and saw him raise an eyebrow.

 

“Did you just insult me with a reference to Romeo and Juliet?” he asked, and you noticed how he hadn’t pulled away from you yet. “That’s a new one, even though everyone knows I’m a playwright they haven’t tried challenging my silver tongue with a play.”

 

“Maybe people should try harder, then,” you replied. Phillip let out a startled laugh and you stepped away from the hug. “I’m sorry, I just got really excited. I’ve always wanted to be the...showstopper, of sorts, and everyone would always tell me that a woman couldn’t do that, that I should leave it to the men. And honestly, for a while, before Phineas found me, I believed them.”

 

Phillip put a hand on your shoulder. “Never listen to them,” he said earnestly. “I understand that a lot of people think that women should just sit and be pretty, take care of the children, and everything else like that. But when I look at you I see the burning wit of a thousand soldiers and know that you’re stronger than anything they say. And if they think you’re still not worthy, you’re at the circus, aren’t you? A group of misfits that don’t fit in.”

 

“There’s the silver tongue I was looking for,” you said with a smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

 

Phillip squeezed your shoulder gently and looked down at his watch. “You should go ahead and sleep,” he said. “I want to make sure you’re wide awake for when I take the stage.” The words by themselves wouldn’t have any sort of connotation to make you suspicious, but the wink that came shortly after begged to differ with your opinion.

 

You raised an eyebrow. “Unless I’m mistaken, are you attempting to flirt with me?” you asked. Instead of looking abashed like you’d thought he would, he simply smirked and reached for your hand. Now it was your turn to blush as he brushed his lips against your knuckles.

 

“I believe you are not mistaken,” he replied. “Now, before you retreat...I’ve heard from a little bird that there’s a play coming through town after the show tonight, and I just  _ happen _ to have an extra ticket for someone to come attend with me.” He met your eyes without any embarrassment and you immediately knew what he was saying.

 

You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, I am a very busy girl after all,” you mused teasingly. He rolled his eyes and you chuckled. “You caught me. I'll come with you, me being a world-reknown Patron of the Arts, after all .”

 

“You’ll have to teach me about the art of playwriting, then,” he replied smoothly, standing back up and brushing off his coat. “I’ll come to get you before the rehearsal starts. If you wake up before then, just come down to the tent and maybe I’ll get the chance to see you practice through your routine again.”

 

You winked, a poor imitation of his from before but one that brought a smile to his face regardless. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You glanced out the window. “Good...morning, Mr. Carlyle.”

 

Phillip rolled his eyes and repeated the farewell to you in kind, stepping out of the caravan with a last backward glance at you and a smile.

  
  



	3. Colossal We Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip and you get a little closer before rehearsal than you'd expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sounds like a smut chapter but I PROMISE IT ISN'T THE WORDING IS POOR OKAY

You pulled yourself out of your slumber, feeling more relaxed than you would have if you slept in your own apartment. Something about the familiar scent of Phillip on the covers had made your tension fade from your mind and you let out a content sigh.

 

You looked down at your wrist. It was three thirty now - Phillip wasn’t expecting you there for another half hour. You drummed your fingers against the cot and got up. It wouldn’t hurt to try practicing for a little while longer; after all, if Phillip were really telling the truth, you’d be better off getting the extra practice.

 

“Might as well,” you murmured to yourself out of habit, walking out of the caravan and retracing your steps back to the circus tent. The area was considerably busier, many entertainers bustling around and chatting near the fire that had been started. You smiled at the ones that noticed you, feeling a warmth buzz in your chest when you got many bright smiles back. This was definitely where you belonged, and you were glad they all saw that.

 

When you got to the tent, faint singing from inside caught you inside. You paused at the entrance, peeking inside and catching your breath quickly when you saw what was going on.

 

Phillip was swinging from one of the trapeze ropes, singing to himself as he caught himself in a series of gentle tosses from one to another. He grabbed onto a rope, not noticing you as you approached him, enough to where the words were audible.

 

_ All I want is to fly with you _

_ All I want is to fall with you _

_ Just give me all of you! _

 

He wrapped his legs around the rope and hung upside down, the rope going in a lazy circle around the length of the ring. Even with the physical strain, his voice was still clear and beautiful and you found yourself taking another step forward, not noticing that you were in clear view.

 

Phillip glanced over and his eyes grew wide. He spluttered your name and lost his grip on the rope. You quickly ran over and dove, not caring that your white shirt was getting dirty as you slid across the floor and cushioned Philip’s fall. The weight made you groan but you didn’t really care, turning over quickly.

 

“Are you okay?” you asked hurriedly. Phillip nodded breathlessly, laying down on the ground and staring at you.

 

“T...Thank you,” he said, finally managing to get the words out through the heavy breathing. “You just startled me, was all. I do believe that would’ve been a nasty fall, had you not caught me.”

 

You furrowed your brow. “Phillip, what were you doing out here without anyone watching?” you asked. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt if something more had happened.”

 

He bit his lip and sat up. “Anne introduced me to trapeze a couple weeks ago and ever since then I’ve used it as a coping mechanism when writing won’t help and I’ve worn new patterns into the floorboards.” You wanted desperately to ask why he needed a coping mechanism that badly, but you knew it wasn’t your place to pry and instead asked a more pressing question - at least, what seemed more important at the moment, now that you knew Phillip was safe.

 

“Are you and Anne…”

 

He seemed to catch your drift and shook his head. “No, we tried after the fire but it didn’t quite work out. There was a lot of insecurities we both needed to get through and it wasn’t fair for me to try and love her when so much of my hate was centered on myself.” You nodded, knowing exactly where he was coming from. “We parted on amicable terms and I’m proud to say she’s one of my closest friends.”

 

“Yeah, Anne is amazing,” you said softly. You got up and held your hand out to Phillip. He accepted it gratefully and the both of you dusted yourselves off, heading to the outside of the ring. You noticed your hat was there and picked it up, rotating it around your hand.

 

“You seem to be rather fond of that hat,” Phillip noted. You glanced over and chuckled, brushing off the dust that had gathered on it.

 

“It’s nothing too special, really.” You ran a hand over the worn material, knowing that your body language and the state the hat was in differed with your words. “My father had gotten it from my mother as one of their anniversary gifts. After she died, he left, and he’d abandoned the hat with it. I kept it with me as a reminder to not abandon the people I call my family and to be a better person than them.”

 

Phillip nodded. “I can understand that promise.” You hummed and put the hat on your head, turning to Phillip.

 

“Well, I guess that since we’re here already…” You grinned mischievously. “Would you want to teach me what I’m going to be doing in the show tomorrow?”

 

The brunet pursed his lips teasingly and crossed his arms. “What would I be getting in return by teaching you?” he asked, playing along. “I’ll have you know that I don’t do things unless I get something in return.”

 

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t mess up at my first show and peg it on your incompetence.” A startled laugh worked out of his mouth and you grinned. “But really, I wouldn’t mind getting taught by you, the amazingly wonderful playwright, Mr. Phillip B. Carlyle himself.”

 

“When you phrase it like that…” Phillip smiled back and led you back into the ring. “There’s nothing really too strenuous that you’re going to be doing. It’s more or less what I’ve been doing for the shows. Maybe a little more flourish here and there, since I’ve heard from a reliable source that you have a talent for that…”

 

You reached into your sleeve, pulled out a comb, and ran it through your hair, brushing the dust out of it. Phillip raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “It’s all about perception, my friend,” you said with a wink. “So, something like this, I’m guessing?”

 

You began going through the sequence of moves you’d been practicing this morning, noticing that Phillip’s gaze never left yours and never letting yours leave his either. As you twirled and put your hat on, taking a deep bow with an added flourish, Phillip clapped and you blushed with pride.

 

“That’s very excellent,” he praised you. He walked to where you were standing and stood behind you. As you opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, he surprised you by putting his hands around your arms, cupping them gently. “At the very end of the show, though, you would want to angle your arms like this so you seem as though you’re beckoning them towards you.”

 

He lifted your arms slowly so they were angled in front of you and upwards. You became hyper-aware of how his fingers wrapped completely around your arms with space left over, the way his face rested close to the side of yours, and how his breaths washed over your shoulders as he maneuvered you into the finishing position that he had previously stated.

 

Time stilled for a moment as he paused, holding your arms. You saw his Adam’s apple bob out of the corner of your eye, and upon realizing that he was still holding you he backed away hastily. “Erm, sorry,” he said.

 

You shook your head slowly, crossing your arms. “No, it’s fine,” you reassured him. There was an awkward silence and he let out a quiet chuckle, seemingly to fill the silence. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at his watch.

 

“Well, I expect the others will be coming here soon,” he said, clapping his hands together. “You can watch from the stands, I expect it would be better than standing underneath them or to the side.” You smiled and nodded, taking off your hat and walking over. You picked a comfortable spot at the very front of the stands, hearing the rambunctious yelling of the troupe as they paraded into the tent.

 

Charles yelled your name, holding up a hand in greeting. “Phillip better not have done anything while we weren’t watching!” he said, smirking as you blushed and Phillip rolled his eyes. “Ah, that telltale pink face makes it seem like something really did happen!”

 

“Go home Charles, you’re drunk!” one of the troupe yelled, earning laughter from the rest and indignant spluttering from the man in question. Phillip held up his hands for quiet but didn’t really attempt to do much else to quiet them down.

 

“Alright everyone, let’s take it from the top! No need for costumes, this is casual for now,” Phillip directed, almost immediately transforming from the awkward guy you’d just been getting advice from to the confident ringmaster you’d seen when Phineas had first taken you to the tent. The troupe followed his orders and arranged themselves in the order they’d be walking in, Phillip at the front.

 

The rehearsal passed by and you found yourself enjoying this more than the show itself, somehow. Although nothing would compare to the actual costumes, props, and cheers of the crowd at the show, the troupe was able to joke and talk amongst themselves without fear of ruining their repertoire. Everyone had something to say or show the others and Phillip encouraged it, shouting random things that made no sense but would spark a conversation, or glowing with pride when one of the performers would show off something they’d come up with.

 

Phineas arrived a couple minutes before the rehearsal ended, a blonde woman in tow with two little girls hanging off of his arms. “Looking good, Carlyle!” he roared, making the troupe jump and the woman slap his arm with a smile. “I didn’t think anyone would be able to pull off that outfit as well as me but you’re getting there!”

 

“Oh please, you wish you would be able to look this good,” Phillip replied, holding up his hands to stop the rehearsal and going over to Phineas. He beckoned you over and you walked over, smiling at the woman. “This is Charity Barnum, and the little girls are - “

 

“My name’s Helen!” the younger of the two boasted before Phillip could even finish. “You’re really pretty, Miss! I hope I grow up as pretty as you!”

 

You smiled and crouched, pulling a rose out of your sleeve. “Well, little Helen, I think you’re well on your way,” you said, tucking the flower behind the girl’s ear. Her eyes lit up and the eldest Barnum daughter looked amazed.

 

“I’m Caroline,” she said. “How did you do that?”

 

You winked and pulled another flower out of your sleeve, this one a lily of the valley. You handed it to Caroline and stood back up. “A great magician never reveals her secrets,” you said mysteriously.

 

“Oh, taking on double roles I see?” Phineas teased. “I thought you were supposed to be the overcompensated apprentice, not the overcompensated magician.”

 

“Barnum, you’re just jealous that I have more of a flair for magic than you,” you replied. Charity giggled and you held out a hand, introducing yourself. “Pleased to meet you. I’m impressed Mr. Barnum over here managed to keep you around for so long.”

 

Charity shook your hand, a firm grip that juxtaposed with her petite frame. “It’s definitely been difficult,” she agreed. “Imagine raising an...eight-year old, I’d estimate, with the energy of a herd of buffalos, and you’d get how difficult it is when it’s nighttime.”

 

“I like you already,” you declared, withdrawing your hand and patting her on the shoulder. You looked over to Phineas. “Are you going to be performing tonight or are you just going to be watching?”

 

“I gave up the circus when I gave it to Phillip,” he replied. “This guy wouldn’t let me come back even if I wanted to. I can only assume how hard of a time he’s given you for trying to be his apprentice.”

 

“Of course,” Phillip drawled, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been making sure she’s been capable for the past week. I’d say you've proved yourself quite well, wouldn’t you?” The last part was directed toward you and you shrugged, playing along.

 

“I don’t know, I think I might do better underneath another mentor,” you mused. Phillip pretended to look hurt and you laughed, encouraging the others to do the same. “I’m going to run home and change quickly. When does the show start again?”

 

“Seven on the dot,” Phineas supplied, “unless Phillip has decided that’s too early and changed it to ten?”

 

“I wish I could but the protestors are already riled up enough,” he replied. “Go ahead, I’m sure you’ll have more than enough time to grab something to eat as well.”

 

You nodded, bowed to the others, and began walking out of the tent. You made sure to wave to the other members of the troupe as you passed, and you could’ve sworn that Anne looked like she wanted to say something, but you walked by her too quickly to be certain.

 

You hummed to yourself as you walked on the street, stuffing your hands into your pockets and staring down at your shoes. Your hat shielded most of your face from the passersby and you were grateful for that, lost in your thoughts and wondering if Phillip had been that close on purpose or on accident.

 

You couldn’t deny that he was attractive and that you felt some kind of...attachment to him. After all, he’d readily accepted you into the circus and he’d been the first man in a while that hadn’t immediately dismissed you because of your gender. He seemed to have everything you’d wanted in a man but at the same time...you didn’t know if there was something deeper going on underneath that seemingly perfect facade.

 

You opened the door to your apartment, wincing at the loud squeak that resounded. This was probably one of the worst apartments in all of New York but maybe you’d be able to buy a new one soon, considering the fact that you actually had a job now.

 

You walked up the stairs and flopped down onto your bed, taking a quick breather before getting up and taking off your sweat-soaked clothing. As you heated up a basin for a bath, you rummaged around, managing to find a neat dress that would hopefully be fancy enough to not embarrass you.

 

The water finished heating up and you slowly lowered yourself into it, quickly scrubbing away the dust and odor you'd collected. A content sigh left your lips as you finished, climbing out and drying yourself off with a cloth.

 

You pulled your dress on, slipped into some comfortable shoes, pinned your hair up and rushed out of the house. You grabbed an apple on the way and ate it quickly, tossing the core into the grass.

Dusk was now falling over the docks and you were grateful for the glow of the lights, allowing you to keep your footing and walk over to the ticketing area.

 

Charity was helping manage sales and she looked up with a smile. “Hey, glad to see you again!” she greeted, passing you your ticket and taking your cash. “Phillip told me about your arrangement after the show. I hope you two have fun.” She winked and you laughed breathlessly, nodding at her. She waved you off and you headed inside, walking over to Phineas and the girls.

 

The two little ones squealed your name and ran away from Phineas, practically climbing over you. “Do the magic, do the magic!” Helen said excitedly. You chuckled and produced two little tiaras that you’d manage to scavenge while leaving your dingy apartment.

 

“Here you go, little princesses,” you said, crowning them. “Remember that it’s not the prince that makes you, but rather who you make the prince.”

 

Although they were too young to get it and too young to understand how much you loved that sentence, their eyes lit up and they thanked you over and over again. Phineas snuck up behind the girls and picked them up, holding them in his arms.

 

“Glad to see you made it,” Phineas said with a smile, tickling the girls who were still giggling with excitement.

 

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” you replied. “I assume the show should be starting soon?”

 

Phineas nodded and led you back over to where they were standing. Charity came in with the last few people and kissed Phineas on the cheek, taking charge of Helen while Phineas held Caroline. You picked at a few pieces of dirt on your dress, attention immediately snapping to the center ring as the lights clicked off and a hush fell over the crowd.

 

_ Woah! _

_ Colossal we come, these renegades in the ring. _

_ Woah! _

_ Where the lost get found in the crown of the circus king! _

 

Phillip’s voice was easily identifiable and despite your urge to focus solely on him, you made sure to give the entire circus equal attention. The fire dancing and the trapeze artists soaring through the air was truly magical, and suddenly you felt like you were twelve again, watching your mother as she weaved fairy tales for you at your bedside. Most of the time those stories only came when you were sick, but the feeling the circus gave you was comparable to being sick and the days after where you’re finally able to breathe again.

 

_ It's everything you ever want _

_ It's everything you ever need _

_ And it's here right in front of you _

_ This is where you wanna be _

 

Phillip made eye contact with you, and as if it were possible his smile widened. He threw a casual wink that the Barnums seemed to also catch, judging by Phineas’ knowing smirk and Charity elbowing you in the side suggestively. The tips of your ears felt hot but you winked back at him.

 

Everything about the scene was hypnotizing, even though there was so much going on and so little you could do to see everything. You found yourself imagining you standing there next to Phillip, helping him lead the show, being able to be fully enveloped in the show. The images from when you’d first tried to perform in front of the group came back - lights flashing, fire flickering - and you felt more at peace in your own body than you had in a while.

 

The show began to wind down as the troupe belted out the last part of the chorus. You got ready to start clapping as hard as you could, but your hands froze and your smile fell as Phillip grabbed Anne’s hand, led her to the front of the ring, and dipped her into a kiss.

 

Phineas looked shocked as well. He looked over to you. “Did he…” He trailed off as you slowly shook your head and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The rest of his words were drowned out by the crowd’s applause and the way Phillip looked up at you, first confused then realizing what you were so shocked about.

 

_ He lied...He said he wasn’t with her anymore. _

 

That was what made you turn around and start running as fast as you could out of the tent, hearing Phillip’s calls and footsteps after you.

  
  



	4. Never Let This Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip explains what had happened during the show.

“Wait!”

 

You ignored Phillip’s calls and pushed yourself to run faster, letting out a startled yelp as a hand clasped tightly around your wrist and turned you to face him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he winced, clasping at his shirt. He let go of you, allowing you to stumble back a few steps, but you didn’t leave as he began to cough harshly.

 

“Phillip?” you asked, concerned, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. The coughing subsided and he took in a deep breath, looking up at you again. The skin around his eyes was taut with pain but he managed to straighten himself.

 

“Please, let me explain,” he said, his voice rougher than earlier, but him saying that made your anger flare up again.

 

“What’s there to explain?” you demanded. “Was this just some sort of game to you? You lied, Phillip! You said you weren’t with her anymore and you…” You waved a hand in disgust in the general direction of the circus.

 

Something flickered in his eyes, but you weren’t sure what it was. “Is that what you’re mad about?” he asked quietly, taking a step toward you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

 

“Of course it is. You tell me that you and she aren’t romantically involved anymore but then you go and snog her in front of the entire circus!” He winced at your words and you chuckled harshly, hoping the open contempt would mask the familiar lump at the back of your throat. “‘Oh, I know! Let’s see who can make the new girl feel the safest at the circus and make her trust break! That should be a fun game!’”

 

“That’s not what - “

 

“Yes, it is,” you said, cutting him off. “You give me this huge speech about how you saw me equal to the rest, but apparently according to your logic everyone is just someone for you to mess around with.” You didn’t explicitly state your attraction to him but the message was clear, judging by the way realization jumped in his eyes. “You can take your invitation to the play and give it Anne since you clearly want to be with her more.”

 

Phillip’s eyebrows knit together as you turned to walk away again. His hand clasped around your wrist and turned you back around, this time not daring to let go.

 

“Unhand me this instant.”

 

“Not until you listen to me.” His eyes met you, fierce and pleading. The pain was still there but the other emotions burned brighter. “Please. Give me one minute to explain myself to you. If you’re not convinced, then you can leave, but please just listen. I never wanted to hurt you, it was just a huge misunderstanding.”

 

“A huge misunderstanding where you ended up kissing Anne,” you muttered. Your logic screamed at you to run - he was a playwright, after all, his words were his greatest weapon - but your heart was telling you to stay. So you did, staring him in the eyes. “One minute, Phillip. That’s all you’re getting.”

 

His eyes brightened and he nodded. “I was telling you the truth. Anne and I are no longer together. We ended it about a day before Phineas showed up with you at the circus, and I assume that because we always ended the show where you walked in during rehearsals, it slipped my mind that the kiss was at the very end.

 

“Anne talked to me about it and we agreed to put the kiss in, and once again it slipped my mind, but this time it was to tell you because she talked to me after you had left to go to your apartment and change.” You remembered something, the way Anne had looked like she wanted to tell you something, and felt guilt blossom at the very bottom of your stomach. “I promise that I never meant to hurt you. I should’ve told you about it sooner, and you have my deepest apologies for failing to do that, but - “

 

You cut him off with a sigh. “You truly have a way with words, Mr. Carlyle.” It wasn’t really the words themselves that had convinced you, it was more the unadulterated sorrow in his face. Although he knew how to use his words, that didn’t mean he was a Grade A actor. It was easy to replicate emotions, but not to this extent.

 

Phillip let out a startled laugh and stepped closer. “So, is that an invitation for me to make this up and take you to the play?” he asked slyly. You hummed thoughtfully and held out your hand.

 

“I guess that’s up to you,” you replied. He took your hand gently, running his lips across the top of your knuckles in a familiar fashion. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that. I should’ve known better.”

 

He shook his head firmly. “No, it was my fault for not telling you sooner.” He held out his arm, and you noticed that he was still wearing his ringmaster outfit. “Would you care to accompany me?”

 

You smirked. “Are you expecting to be inconspicuous with that on?” You tapped the golden accents on his red suit, making him bat your fingers away.

 

“I’m in the circus, after all, it’s my job to attract attention.”

 

“Fair enough.” You looped your arm through Phillip’s and smiled. “Let’s get going, then.”

 

Phillip led you to the ticketing area of the theater. The person behind the counter gawked at Phillip and his flashy outfit, but the moment he passed the money over, the surprise was wiped off the man’s face.

 

“Enjoy the show,” he said with a forced smile. Phillip nodded and led you inside, and almost immediately after passing through the doors you felt his arm tense up. Upon closer inspection, his mouth was pulled into a taut line and his gaze was focusing intently upon each of the faces that you passed by.

 

“Phillip?” you murmured. He blinked and looked down at you, apparently realizing how tense he was. His arm relaxed and he tried for a smile, but the tension was still there.

 

“Sorry, it’s just…” He licked his lips and sighed. “The last time I came here, I took Anne with me, and we ran into my parents on the way in.”

 

As you walked up the stairs, you remembered what he had said, about understanding your promise to be a better person than either of your parents. Your eyebrows knit together. “Did something bad happen?” you asked.

 

Phillip glanced to another couple that had passed by on the stairs to your left. “Nothing violent, it was just...they judged her for being dark-skinned and for me trying to court her.” He sighed again, this one more disgusted. “It wouldn’t be quite as bad for you, but no offense, they don’t quite enjoy the idea of me fraternizing with the lower class.”

 

“None taken, I understand.” The Carlyles were a prestigious family and you knew on the social hierarchy, you were just barely holding onto the lowest rung. “Was that one of the reasons it didn’t work out between you two?”

 

Phillip held open the door for you, nodding to a person walking out of the theater. “Yes, she didn’t quite enjoy the idea of my parents constantly harassing her, nor the idea of my family having more reason to despise me.”

 

You took a seat at the very front and Phillip handed you a program. You read through it, seeing a couple names you recognized, but overall it was a rather interesting cast list. The play seemed to be similar to the first play you’d seen of Phillip’s...in fact, it was…

 

Your eyes widened and you looked over to Phillip. He was smirking again. “Is this…”

 

“It is,” he said. “Phineas told me that you had enjoyed this particular play and I gave my old company permission to bring it back around for one more show.”

 

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “I really enjoyed it. The play was...rather satirical, and I enjoyed listening to the mumbles of the ‘nobles’ as they left. Amazing that they got it in the first place; I was rather impressed.”

 

“I guess it ended up as a satire, but it was…” He drummed his fingers on the armrest between the both of you. “It ended up being more of a personal memoir than I’d wanted it to turn out.”

 

“Really?” you asked.

 

“Well, not exactly.” The curtains drew back and he lowered his voice. “It was more because of how....alone I felt in my childhood, I guess.”

 

Stricken by a sudden surge of bravery, you reached over and laced your fingers through his. He looked over in surprise and you managed a small smile. “You’re not alone now, though,” you whispered, managing to get it through before the lights in the theater turned off and a center spotlight lit up the stage.

 

He was rendered speechless, but judging by the soft squeeze he gave your hand in return, he appreciated what you had said.

 

The play was just as good as the first time you had watched it. There were a few times where you forgot that you were still holding Phillip’s hand and you were thrown back into reality when he shifted, but every time that happened you felt a rush of elation that you had difficulty hiding. You’d catch glimpses of him smiling every so often and had a feeling that he was under the same effect.

 

After him revealing that it was a sort of personal memoir, you understood the meaning of the play a lot more than before. The main character was a small boy that had lost both of his parents in an unfortunate accident and was transferred to the care of two parents that had lost their little boy a few weeks prior. As a result, they were detached, the status of the parents making the situation even worse as they went out to parties every day, coming home red-faced and drunken.

 

You felt a hot lump grow at the back of your throat at the end of a few scenes but most of them you letting out stifled giggles. The little boy became more and more like Phillip and you wondered if you were projecting your own perception of Phillip onto the fictional character or if he had meant for that to happen.

 

The curtains drew closed over a final image of the boy growing up into a fine young adult that was nothing like his parents and you directed your applause towards Phillip. A fine pink blush ran over his face and he gave you a shy smile, looking down at your interlocked hands.

 

“Oh, is this bothering you?” you asked, perceiving his staring as wanting to let go of your hand.

 

In response, he ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “I would never want to let this go,” he said softly. “Let me drop you off at your apartment, okay? It’s late and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

You were the one that blushed this time, but more out of embarrassment than infatuation. “I...have to, uh…” You gestured in the general direction of the restrooms and Phillip’s eyes widened in realization. He let go of your hand, giving you one final squeeze.

 

“Go ahead, I’ll wait for you outside,” he said. You nodded and headed over to the restroom, hearing his footsteps go down the stairs and to the main lobby.

 

As you entered, you clasped your hands tightly around the rim of the washbasin and stared at yourself in the mirror, watching your face in the mirror. You still had a stupid little smile on your face but you were red as well.

  
_This boy..._


	5. Impossible Comes True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coming to the lobby you see that Phillip has mysteriously vanished, and you soon find the reason why.

When you left the restroom and walked down the stairs, you looked around and felt a vague uncertainty as you realized that Phillip wasn’t waiting in the lobby like he said he would be. You waited there for a few minutes, thinking he might’ve needed to go to the restroom, but after standing there you realized that uncertainty was a tugging instinct in your gut. Something was wrong.

 

You hastened out of the lobby and looked to your right and left, not seeing any sign of Phillip anywhere. However, there were the vague sounds of confrontation coming from an alleyway to your left, and you walked over, keeping your footsteps light and making sure to not draw any attention to yourself.

 

You peeked around the corner and stifled a gasp when you saw Phillip standing there, arm tightly wrapped around his stomach and his stature clearly communicating his discomfort. In front of him were two people that you couldn’t quite identify but there was something familiar in the stance of the man and the fidgeting of the woman.

 

“For the last time,  _ Father, _ I will not come home with you,” Phillip spat out. Your eyes widened as he called the man ‘Father,’ and the man stepped forward, confirming that he looked like an older version of Phillip. However, the one main difference was the lines of anger around Mr. Carlyle’s eyes; Phillip would never look like that.

 

“You lost the right to call me Father when you left to join the circus,” he said angrily. “Come back with us this instant. Maybe we can manage to salvage our reputation and convince everyone we didn’t raise a failure of a son.”

 

Phillip shifted, and something made him seem even more imposing, however pained he might be. “If anything, you were a failure of a parent. Maybe you should be looking back on that and wondering where  _ you  _ went wrong instead of me.”

 

Mrs. Carlyle’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. “Phillip, don’t say that about your father!” she insisted. “It’s unbecoming of you!”

 

Phillip turned to his mother and something in his face must’ve made her back away a little, fear glinting in her eyes. “And what, the constant verbal and physical abuse from his end wasn’t unbecoming of him? How can you convince yourselves that the torment you put me through for the majority of my adolescence was anything but torture?”

 

Her eyes glistened with tears and she spread her arms in a placating gesture. “Please, Phillip, it was all for your own good!”

 

There was a pause, and then Phillip began laughing. There was no humor in his voice, only a berating tone that made his father bristle in anger. “This is pure  _ gold,”  _ he drawled sarcastically. “Do you really think that the scars you gave me were for my own good? If anything, I became more of my own person because of your abuse, because of the punches and the kicks and the verbal railings that left me crying in my room at night.”

 

“That was your own fault,” Mr. Carlyle growled. “We didn’t raise our son to be a weakling that cried because of the slightest amount of criticism.”

 

“Criticism?” he demanded. “Father, you are a dunce if you think that was criticism.”

 

You felt the change in the atmosphere before you could see it. Mr. Carlyle raised his hand and backhanded Phillip so viciously that he flew to the side, bumping against the wall with a sharp inhale of pain.

 

“Stop!” you cried, jumping out from your hiding spot and running over to Phillip. His parents were taken aback, giving you enough time to grab Phillip and pull him protectively behind you. “That is enough, Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle!”

 

“Who are you?” Mr. Carlyle asked, rage flickering in his eyes. “This is a family matter, not one for the lower class to be involved in.”

 

“A family matter?” you retorted. “Mr. Carlyle, listen to yourself! You are being incredibly idiotic and I’d appreciate it if you would kindly leave and allow me to nurse Phillip because of your incompetent care!”

 

“Why you - “

 

He raised his hand to hit you and you felt Phillip shift, presumably to protect you, but before either of them could do anything you struck out with your foot, catching Mr. Carlyle in the stomach and making him stumble backward. Rage was making blood roar in your ears and you put a comforting hand on Phillip’s shoulder.

 

“For the last time, I am going to request for you to leave Phillip and go back to the hole you crawled out of,” you said, your voice calm but the expression on your face speaking other words. Mrs. Carlyle winced and put a hand on Mr. Carlyle’s shoulder imploringly. “If not, I will contact the proper authorities, along with the members of the circus troupe, and I doubt you would enjoy having to fend off a team of very angry people, most of which are competent in fighting and would run your physical wellness into the ground given a chance.”

 

Mr. Carlyle glared at you for a moment, then brushed the dust off of his shirt and turned to his wife. “Come along, we’ve wasted enough time here,” he muttered. “But mark my words, you are going to pay for this.”

 

You stared daggers into their retreating forms, but the moment they were out of sight you turned to Phillip and put your hands on his shoulders. All the rage melted away and you were filled with worry. “Phillip, are you okay?” you asked hurriedly.

 

He gawked at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. The mark from his father’s hand was red against his pale face, and a bruise was forming steadily in the shape of the signet ring you had seen. A thin trail of blood was spilling out of his nose and he held himself carefully, a hand still placed on his stomach.

 

“Y...Yes, I think I am,” he said, still in awe. “How did you know to find me?”

 

“I just had a gut instinct,” you replied, helping him stand up. He needed some support, judging by the way he stumbled ever so slightly, but he waved you off and took a deep breath. “You’re injured. Come with me back to my apartment.”

 

The tips of his ears burned red but he still hesitated. “Are you sure?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, leading him forward and out of the alleyway.

 

The theater was relatively close to your home and so it didn’t take long for Phillip and you to walk to your apartment. “Luckily there’s snow, so if we get a towel we can wrap some up and put it on your cheek to slow the swelling,” you mused out loud, opening the door to your apartment. “I have some bandages we can use if anything was cut open, and there should be some opium or whiskey left over in my cabinets if the pain is too much…”

 

You noticed that you had started to ramble but didn’t take much notice, leading Phillip to the couch and sitting him down there. You grabbed a towel and disappeared back outside to collect some snow, and came inside to see Phillip standing up and looking at the picture on the countertop in your kitchen.

 

“Who is this?” he asked, pointing to an older teenager standing next to you in your adolescence. Your hands froze and you bit your lip, handing the snow to Phillip and instructing him to hold it to his cheek. He stared at you as you left to grab the bandages you had talked about.

 

You came back and began carefully undoing his suit and white dress shirt. There were only a few mottled bruises along his stomach and you set the bandages to the side, finding no use for them yet.

 

“I blocked him out of my mind so I never mention him to anyone,” you whispered, running your fingers along the fabric of your dress. “He was...my brother. That’s where I get all of my suits from.”

 

His eyes widened ever so slightly. “Is he…”

 

You moistened your lips and nodded. “He killed himself before I turned twelve. So about three months before my mother died. I think the grief must’ve had some part in her death, and why my father couldn’t bear to stay around.”

 

He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

You forced a chuckle and lowered your head. “We weren’t all that close regardless,” you said. “Still, it hurt because I never knew why. As far as I knew, he was the golden child, the one that had convinced my parents he was going to amount to something great. Maybe something, the stress to be perfect, had driven him over the edge.”

 

Phillip fell silent and you looked back up at him, having managed to compose himself. “I think there’s a more pressing question, though.” You put your hand on his knee. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

Phillip’s hand started to shake over the towel and he unconsciously put his hand over yours. “I had told Charity and Phineas about it, and admittedly it was against my own will. I was spending the night over at their home because Phineas and I had drunk together and neither of them wanted me going back to my apartment in my condition. I was changing in the guest bedroom and forgot to lock the door, so Charity came in with fresh linens and…”

 

He took a deep breath and carefully took off the coat, then raised his dress shirt. Shallow lacerations marked his stomach and back, and you felt a cold realization at the sight of them. “Charity saw them and immediately questioned me about them, along with Phineas after he had come in to check on us, and...that’s how they found out.”

 

“Phillip…” you whispered, frowning.

 

“I didn’t want to tell you because when I had told those two, they had looked at me like a kicked puppy.” A forced laugh escaped his lips and he bowed his head, covering his eyes with his other hand. “I rather hate pity and sympathy. They seem like such meaningless emotions and I grew up deprived of the two. Normally, the things I had been rejected in my childhood came back in my adulthood and I wanted them to be there, but those two emotions were a special case.”

 

You stared at your hand on his knee and raised it to cup his face, placing it over his hand. He started and looked up at you. “I would never treat you like that if you didn’t want me to,” you murmured. “You’re too strong and too... _ you _ to be treated like that. If anything, rather than a kicked puppy you remind me more of a caged and mistreated bird. You are not to be pitied but rather admired for your scars.”

 

His eyebrows knit together and to your surprise, tears were making his eyes appear glossy. It was such an unfamiliar emotion and it looked out of place on his face, which was usually impassive. “I feel like such a failure sometimes, when their words come back to haunt me,” he whispered. “And I try not to let it get to me, but being raised with the constant barrages of them reminding me I was a disappointment...it can wear down your psyche.”

 

You nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You found yourself rubbing gentle circles into his cheek and he was leaning into your touch, closing his eyes. The two of you were rather close, and at this distance, you could the bags under his eyes.

 

“Are you in any pain?” you asked.

 

His eyes opened, half-lidded, and he hummed. The noise sent vibrations to your hand and you resisted the urge to pull away. “The snow is numbing the pain from the backhand, and I’m so used to the bruising that it doesn’t really hurt.” You winced slightly at the bluntness of the last half of his statement but allowed him to continue. “I think I should be fine for now.”

 

“You should get some rest, then,” you said, retracting your hand and standing up. Before you could move any further, though, he reached out and grabbed your waist. You gasped in surprise as he pulled you back down to the couch and hugged you fiercely. The towel fell down and draped itself on your shoulder, cold seeping into your skin, but you ignored that in favor of hugging him back just as tightly.

 

He was shaking now, warm tears juxtaposing with the cold, and his voice was shaky as he whispered, “Thank you.”

  
  



	6. You're Electrified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Phillip have a calm morning that's quickly thrown into motion once you arrive at the circus tent.

You came to slowly, your head pounding lightly but not enough to suggest you’d drank more than you usually did. Phillip was passed out on the floor next to your bed with a blanket and a pillow under his head, snoring lightly. You smiled and got up, tiptoeing around his sleeping body and heading into the kitchen.

 

You felt kind of bad that you didn’t have anything sizeable for Phillip to look forward to. Instead, all you had were a couple of apples, some bread that could be made into toast, and some butter that you had managed to prepare all by yourself. You shrugged and set to work, chopping up the apples and toasting the bread.

 

The door to your room opened and Phillip walked out, looking decent despite the noticeable swelling on his cheek. You abandoned the breakfast and disappeared outside with another towel, coming back and handing some snow to him. “Put that on your face, we wouldn’t want your beauty to be marred,” you teased.

 

He rolled his eyes and pressed the snow to his cheek. “The only thing that could truly damage my natural good looks would be death itself,” he replied. You smiled and put the toast and apples on two separate plates, handing one to Phillip. “Thank you. Send my compliments to the chef.”

 

You frowned, hearing the joking tone in his voice. “Hey, be glad I even gave you food, freeloading off my property.”

 

“If I recall correctly, you  _ forced _ me to stay the night because of my condition.”

 

“Exactly, your condition was what forced you to stay here, not because I  _ wanted _ you to or anything.” The smile that was starting to work its way onto your face begged to differ with your words, and Phillip grinned. “Fine, fine, maybe your company is manageable in small doses.”

 

“How nice of you,” he said, popping one of the apples into his mouth. You did the same and turned around, putting away the pan you had used to toast the bread. There was a sizeable pause before Phillip asked, “Is this going to change anything?”

 

You started and looked back at him. “What do you mean?”

 

He looked abashed, almost like he regretted saying anything, but continued. “I mean you knowing the truth about my parents...Nothing between us is going to change, right? I already told you that I don’t appreciate people looking down at me as though I were a kicked puppy.”

 

You sighed and strode back toward him, putting a gentle hand on top of his. “Phillip, how many times do I have to tell you that I won’t treat you any differently because of this?” you asked, shaking your head. “Really, it’s as if you’re so full of your own silver tongue that you can’t hear anything someone says.”

 

A smile flickered on his face. “Well, I have a right to be full of myself, considering how many people absolutely  _ adore  _ my silver tongue.” You groaned and returned to your meal, eating a little more. “Thank you.”

 

“Stop thanking me as well,” you threatened, holding up the knife you had used to cut up the apples. “Otherwise you will have a reason to hide your face.”

 

He held up his hands in mock surrender, knowing you wouldn’t really cut him unless he gave you no choice. “I guess it’s good that we planned to have you be in the show as well,” he said, taking a bite out of the toast.

 

You glanced down at his stomach, where you knew there was considerable bruising, and nodded. “Too bad people come to see you specifically, otherwise we’d be able to take you out entirely,” you said with a smirk.

 

“Au contraire, I think they’ll be happy to see a new face,” he replied. “Especially one as pretty as yours.”

 

You scoffed and ate the last of your apples. “If anything they’d be mourning the loss of yours,” you retorted. Phillip chuckled and finished the last of his food in silence. “Well, when would you like to head over to the circus?”

 

Phillip snapped his fingers. “That’s right, I almost forgot to tell you!” He paused for dramatic effect and you stared at him, rolling your hand for him to go on. “Phineas and I created a ringmaster outfit for you to wear, seeing as how it would be rather odd for you to not be wearing an outfit as  _ gorgeous _ as ours.”

 

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “I think I’d do better off without wearing one, thank you very much.” Phillip gasped in offense and you laughed. “I’m just teasing. Thank you, Phillip, that means a lot.”

 

“Well, I would claim all the credit, but the tailor’s boy really knows what he’s doing I guess.” He pulled the melted snow away from his face and set the towel down on the countertop. “I’d suggest we head over there now so you’re able to really take in the full effect.”

 

He held out his elbow and you took it in a familiar manner. “Well, let’s get going then,” you said, trying to keep your expression calm but unable to hide the excitement. Phillip noticed and hummed, pretending to stall. “Don’t you dare take this away from me.”

 

Phillip took you out of your apartment and began leading you down to the circus tent. As usual, people stared at the both of you, him for still wearing his flashy coat and you for very obviously being lower class, but you were too caught up in his impressive stories to care for once.

 

The trip passed by quickly, carried on the shoulders of an expressive retelling of The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and you found yourself standing in front of the main tent in what seemed like record time. “I’m afraid we must cut your story off short,” you said in a teasingly upset tone.

 

Phillip caught on and painted on such an obvious expression of distress that you snorted. “Oh, woe is me,” he moaned, putting emphasis on the last word. “I guess we’re going to be seeing your outfit sooner than expected.”

 

“How tragic,” you agreed, stifling your laughter as he led you into the tent and up to his and Phineas’ office...which you now realized was technically yours and his, since you were his apprentice. How odd that it had been more than a week and you were still getting used to all of this.

 

As per usual, his desk was the neatest area in the entire room, with papers stacked in organized piles and a spare coat hanging off the back of his chair. The other half was a mess - you hadn’t gotten around to tidying up the hurricane that was P.T. Barnum - and you saw a clothing rack with a single outfit.

 

You knit your eyebrows together. For some reason, you felt oddly put out by the sight of a suit on the rack, and Phillip noticed. His excitement dwindled. “Is there something wrong?” he asked, putting a gentle hand on the small of your back.

 

You bit your lip. “I know this is stupid for me to be...upset about, seeing as how I always wear suits, but…”

 

Phillip seemed to catch your drift and he frowned. “Were you looking for a dress of sorts instead?”

 

“If I’m being honest, yes, I honestly was.” You put your hands up hurriedly. “Don’t get me wrong, this is beautiful and I’m so grateful that you thought to put this together, but…”

 

Phillip nodded. “I get what you mean. I guess we were kind of thinking that the suit would protect you, seeing as how people won’t be used to the idea of a woman taking the show by the reins, but I think you’ve proven that you’re more than capable of holding your own in a fight.”

 

You blushed, remembering how you had kicked his father in the stomach just last night. “Right…”

 

He took one of your hands. “I promise that I’ll help Phineas modify it into a dress, but for now, would you mind wearing it? I wouldn’t want you to go out there without something special to commemorate the occasion, after all.”

 

You chuckled. “Of course. Once again, thank you, and if I don’t see Phineas before tonight, send him my thanks as well.”

 

“Oh, you’ll definitely see Phineas before the show tonight.” There was an obvious tone of exasperation in his voice and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “He always has such a habit of ruining the rehearsals. No one can ever focus.”

 

“As if you’re any good at keeping them focused to begin with,” you scoffed.

 

“You’re right, but regardless.” You both laughed and you noticed that he was still holding one of your hands. You quirked an eyebrow, and he glanced down at your hands. Instead of letting go, he went one step further and laced your fingers together, giving you a coy wink.

 

“Phillip? Are you up here? W.D. needs some help with - “

 

Before you could separate, Lettie came into the room. She saw your hands and rose her eyebrows, smirking at the both of you, before continuing as though nothing had happened. “W.D. is having some trouble with the trapeze rings, he said there might be something off with the tension.”

 

Phillip nodded hurriedly, and you swore you saw regret on his face for a millisecond before he pulled away from you and hastened out the door. The moment Phillip had disappeared, Lettie bumped the door closed and her smirk became a kind smile.

 

“Do you want me to say anything about that to the others?” she asked, and you immediately knew that she wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t want her to.

 

You pursed your lips. “I...I don’t know how far this will go,” you admitted. “I don’t want to get my hopes up, nor do I want the troupe to mess with Phillip and me too much…”

 

Lettie got the meaning behind your words and clasped one of your hands in both of hers. “I won’t breathe a word about it to the others,” she promised. You smiled and put your spare hand on top of hers. “Now, I think that our junior ringmaster might want to get the hang of helping everyone out before the show. Don’t you?”

 

You nodded. “Yes, of course.”

 

Lettie led you downstairs and you saw Phillip look up for a second at the sound. He smiled briefly at you before turning back to W.D. and adjusting one of the ropes that was attached to a sandbag. You felt apprehension bubble at the bottom of your gut as he leaned precariously over the edge of the platform - the sandbag was suspended in the air as they attempted to adjust the tension - but that feeling went away when he steadied his footing and began discussing the problem with the trapeze artist.

 

Anne looked over as you approached and smiled. “Hey,” she said, looking a little worried. “I’m sorry about - “

 

“Don’t mention it,” you said, cutting her off. “We talked about it already. I don’t hold anything against you.”

 

Anne smiled and nodded. “You mind helping me with one of my tricks? I can’t quite get the hang of it and it’ll help to have a spotter. I would ask W.D. or Phillip, but…”

 

You nodded and followed her over to the platform where she would be starting off from. She grabbed onto the bar, took a deep breath, and began sailing. You followed her path and took a step back as she performed an aerial flip, catching the next bar neatly. As the rope swung, she flipped upside down, hooking onto it with her legs, and she paused for a moment before dropping and grabbing onto one of the hoops that were suspended in the air.

 

W.D. noticed she was practicing and began loosening the tension on the corresponding rope. She was lowered gently to the ground and walked over to you, panting slightly but beaming as you clapped.

 

“It looked good,” you said. “I think there was a moment where you have to grab onto the hoop, it looked like you were a little shaky. Maybe move the hoop a little closer and don’t use nearly as much momentum, it’ll stop everything from bouncing around and make it look smoother.”

 

Anne nodded along to your words. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks a lot.”

 

You patted her on the shoulder and walked over to Phillip and W.D. They had managed to fix the tension and Phillip was watching as the older Wheeler did a couple test runs to make sure that the ropes were functioning. The brunet caught your eye as you approached and gave you a quick smirk before returning his attention to W.D.

 

“Everything good?” he called up to W.D. The man in question returned back to the ground, smiling and thanking Phillip for his help. Phillip nodded in return and turned around to face the rest of the troupe.

 

“Alright everyone, let’s go ahead and run through rehearsal!” He glanced behind him and added, “Without the kiss at the end, of course,” in a quiet whisper that made you smile. He turned back around as if nothing had happened and led you out to the center ring.

 

This time, you were able to fully participate in the run-through, and you felt more comfortable in your own skin than you had in a long time. You were still wearing a dress and the fabric flowing around your legs, rather than acting as a hindrance, became a strength.

 

You caught Phillip’s eyes a couple times and it felt less like a dream than you thought it would. His electric blue eyes were startling in the lighting of the tent and you swore you heard Lettie snickering behind you between lyrics, but you disregarded it and continued to throw yourself into the rehearsal.

 

At the last note of the song, you felt Phillip take your hand and raise it above your head. You looked over in surprise but saw him staring straight ahead with a self-satisfied smile on his glowing face. There was a slight tightening of pain around his eyes but other than that it was as if nothing had happened last night. You envied him for his ability to hide his pain.

 

He dropped your hand and turned to the others. Everyone was smiling and joking around now, and although this had already become your home, you now felt solidified in their small little family because of this. “Since this is a weekend show and we’re going to be expecting a lot more people…”

 

There was a short silence that was interrupted by Charles cheering. “Hell yes! Bring out the wine, W.D!”

 

“I’ll take some of the girls over to the market and grab some meat and fruits,” Lettie volunteered. Anne, Deng Yan, and one of the albino twins accompanied her as they walked out of the tent.

 

The troupe exploded into an excited fervor and you stepped back to stand next to Phillip. “What’s going on?” you asked. “Why is everyone so excited?”

 

Phillip quirked an eyebrow. “I forgot that you hadn’t been with us long enough to know this. Every Saturday, before the show, we have a huge lunch back near where the performer’s tents are. Everyone pitches in something so it ends up being more of a potluck than anything, but it’s a nice way to loosen up the tension and bring everyone closer.”

 

“That’s really nice,” you said. “How can I help?”

 

Phillip smirked and put a hand on the small of your back. Since everyone was so busy, no one noticed that the two of you were standing a lot closer than two friends should. “I want to share some of my whiskey with you, so you can taste it,” he whispered. “Consider it an honor. Not even Phineas himself has ever had that opportunity.”

 

“Oh?” You crossed your arms. “How admirable that you consider me so important to share your whiskey.” You forced yourself to keep the blushing to a minimum; it wasn’t every day that an attractive young man invited you to share his whiskey, not to mention that the flirtatious undertone made it sound a lot less innocent than you would first believe.

  
Phillip hummed. “I mean, I _guess_ you’re kind of important.” You scoffed and he chuckled, smiling. “Of course you’re important. At least, to me you are.”


	7. Share Your Dreams With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, drinking has become a new way to express your emotions.

It had been a while since you had a serious conversation while drinking alcohol, but Phillip was a man full of surprises.

 

The two of you had retreated back to Phillip’s caravan after eating and talking with the others for a couple of hours. The sun was still above the horizon and you figured you still had two hours or so before the show arrived. If all else failed and you got drunk, there was a wash basin in the tent that you could use to dunk your head into.

 

You and Phillip were sat on his cot, passing a drinking glass back and forth. It felt like you were limiting yourself and you knew Phillip was as well; you doubted being completely drunk with a potentially fatal job was a smart idea.

 

Phillip was holding the glass, and it was full of amber liquid that reflected the sunlight onto his face. His brows were knit together in concentration as he stared at the glass.

 

“You know, I never did drink for the taste. It always seemed too strong for me.” He took a sip and passed the glass back to you. “It was more to forget, which granted didn’t work. It only served to make the memories stronger.”

 

“I can only imagine,” you agreed. Whatever atrocities you had faced growing up, Phillip probably had it worse. “But you don’t need to run away using alcohol anymore. You have the circus, the Barnums and their kids, and Anne to forget.” You paused, then added as though it were merely an afterthought, “And me, of course. Although I doubt someone who’s barely known you for more than a week really counts.”

 

Phillip rolled his eyes. He watched you down the alcohol carefully before replying, “You have it wrong. What would you consider all the fleeting touches, then, if I didn’t completely trust you with all of my heart?” 

 

You were silent, watching the few drops of alcohol wind their way down the glass. “That actually brings up a good question.” You turned to him, and you noticed that you had unconsciously scooted closer to Phillip while you’d been drinking. “Why do you trust me so wholeheartedly when you seem to lack the ability to open up and trust others because of your childhood?”

 

It was his turn to stay quiet. He took the cup and placed it on the nightstand, next to the still unlit oil lamp, then turned to fully face you. His gaze was serious, calculating even, and you knew that you were going to be subject to another one of his carefully woven speeches, with miles and miles of storytelling fabric to create a tapestry of what thoughts and feelings he kept captive in his own mind.

 

“When you’ve known someone for a long time, they’ve already built up a mental and physical description of you. They know about all the awkward little crushes you’ve had, the solace you find in playwriting, the cries for help you kept hidden under the mask of being okay and still having that bright light that people look for in others.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began rubbing the bridge of his nose.

 

“But in doing so, that image they’ve built up is so damn hard to break down. Once you know someone for the amount of time that they’ve known me and vice versa, to think of anything out of the norm would be absurd, because you know their ins and outs and what makes them tick and what makes them laugh...and what makes them  _ cry.” _

 

Once again, you were held captive by his words. He’d chosen the right profession by becoming a playwright. Just like during the plays he had carefully spent months poring over, this simple work he’d only just now come up with was bound to keep you under its spell.

 

“Because of that, they don’t know what to think when you tell them about what’s underneath the image they’ve built.” He gestured vaguely to his person then dropped his hand limply down to his side. “That’s what happened when I was forced to tell Charity and Phineas about everything. They had that look of pity, both for me and for the image of me that they had lost through my past they didn’t know about.”

 

You nodded slowly. “I think I get what you’re saying. Since you haven’t known me for the period of time that the others have, my impression of you is still malleable and whatever image I’ve already built of you is easily changed to what you really are.”

 

“Exactly. And I guess that’s why I seem to trust you more than the others. You’re just so...real, I guess. Phineas and Charity built their lives around the circus, and therefore everyone inside of it, so really when I see them I can’t help but think of what the circus has done for the people involved, and when I think of the circus troupe I think of everything backward.” He seemed to realize what he was saying and frowned. “I’m not saying that the circus has made them fake. It’s just that what I know - “

 

“ - is based around the circus,” you guessed, “and you don’t know really know how they are outside of it?”

 

“Yes.” He looked relieved that you understood what he was trying to say. “And you’re just so easy to talk to. For example, when you found out about my parents, you didn’t immediately look at me as though I was a kicked puppy.”

 

“As I said before, you are not.” You took one of his hands in both of yours and pressed it against your chest. “Do you feel my heart? You have the same organ beating inside of you. No matter what you’ve gone through, no matter how different you are from me, we are still made from the same morals and the same principles, and I will not treat you any differently from how I would treat myself.”

 

He chuckled softly. “I guess I’m lucky that you’re not overcome by self-loathing, then.”

 

You winked. “Maybe I’m actually lying to both you and me and treating you better than how I would myself.” He quirked his mouth into a half smile and you dropped your hands down to your lap, still holding his. “In all seriousness, though, I truly do get what you’re saying. I guess I don’t really understand it as well as I should because I never truly got close enough with anyone to compare your experiences to mine, but...I get the idea, and I respect it as well.”

 

“That’s good.” The relief was obvious and you knew he felt like he was rambling. “Regardless…” He glanced down at his watch. “I forget how quickly time passes when I’m in good company.”

 

You looked down at your own and saw that there was an hour until showtime. “I think we’d probably be better off sobering up,” you noted. Phillip nodded in agreement and stowed away the whiskey and the drinking glass, then sat back down on the cot with you. Your hand felt oddly empty without his in it.

 

The silence was comfortable rather than blistering and you wondering what was going through your head when you rested it on Phillip’s shoulder. Rather than pulling away, he slowly put a hand on the small of your back and rubbed circles into it. The awkward gesture of affection made you remember what had happened the first time you had hugged him, and you let out a poorly stifled giggle.

 

“I forget how stiff you are,” you teased softly, barely moving your lips and the prod a simple breath of air escaping them. His own laughter made his shoulder shake and the hand became more confident, sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer. The closeness made you realize that you’d only known this man for little over a week and you might be moving too fast.

 

Then again, you weren’t a fan of things moving slowly. It made you think of the first and only time you’d ever ridden a horse. The beast was muscle beneath you, his legs working in perfect unison like a well-oiled piston, and you had wanted so badly to squeal for the ride to stop, but instead, you had settled and wove your hands into the horse’s mane. You enjoyed the ride from then on, even regretting it when you had slid off, your legs hurting from riding bareback.

 

This relationship you had formed with Phillip reminded you of that. Maybe the ride was too fast and too dangerous, but that was okay. You had forsaken the notion of ever having a safe life the moment you decided to do magic in the streets of a sexist and predatorial city.

 

Time passed quickly but you swore you could feel every minute pass, every second tick away and make you realize that moments like these were rather hard to come by in the busyness of life. Maybe now it didn’t seem like that, but soon you would be caught up in the circus and these moments would become fleeting.

 

Phillip glanced down at his watch once more and the breath he let out sounded disappointed. “Twenty minutes until showtime, it would be smart for us to make our way to the tent now,” he said. You wanted desperately to stay but didn’t want to miss your first show, so instead, you reluctantly got up and heard the cot squeak as Phillip followed your actions.

 

The two of you walked out of Phillip’s caravan. The sun was now dipping below the horizon; by the time the show started, it would be completely pitch black and devoid of any visibility. The only light would be the stars and the circus.

 

You and Phillip headed over to the tent. It was bustling with activity as the circus troupe ran around, putting on costumes and chatting amongst themselves. No one commented on your early departure from the meal; in fact, no one even spared a glance your way, save for Lettie’s knowing glance and Phineas winking at you as you passed.

 

“Phillip told me about the whole suit incident,” he muttered into your ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix it after the show and you’ll be a pretty little circus princess tomorrow night.”

 

You grinned and nodded. “Thank you so much. Are you my unofficial fairy godfather now?”

 

He did a low sweeping bow. “Whatever you desire.”

 

You rolled your eyes at his antics and hurried to catch up with Phillip. You headed upstairs and felt that surge of joy in your chest once more at the sight of those golden buttons. The disappointment from earlier had no place in your heart; you were simply too proud of yourself for managing to get this far to allow it to fester.

 

“Barnum and I always changed in the same room, but I doubt you would be comfortable with that,” Phillip said, having grabbed his own ringmaster’s uniform. “I’m sure we can find something to fix that little problem.”

 

You fiddled with the clothing rack a little, moving the hangers around until they created a suitable wall. After making sure it would sufficiently hide you, you ducked behind it and changed into your outfit, keeping your eyes well away from Phillip, who was evidently changing as well.

 

You made sure to stay behind the rack until Phillip gave you the all-clear. When you stepped out, his gaze made you feel like you were on fire. It was so blatantly admiring, the way his eyes swept over you, that you knew a blush was creeping over your face.

 

“You wear that very well,” he finally said, the simplicity contrasting with the awe on his face. “I think you should be the center attraction.”

 

“Oh please,” you said off-handedly, waving him off and trying to pretend like the compliment didn’t send a burst of confidence through you. “I hardly think anyone could take the spotlight off of you, Mr. Carlyle.”

 

He rolled his eyes and held out his elbow. “Five minutes until showtime. Shall we?”

 

You looped your arm through his and allowed him to lead you down to the center ring. People focused on you as you traveled downstairs and you could hear more than a few catcalls and whistles that you recognized.

 

Phillip retracted his arm from yours and clapped his hands. “Alright everyone, places! The show starts in three!”

 

Phineas walked over to you as the troupe arranged themselves in the order that they would be ‘walking’ in. You said that loosely because it was more of a violent parade than anything, but you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Looking good,” he teased. “The junior apprentice might be stealing the spotlight away after all.”

 

You flicked his arm. “Go back to your wife and kids, Barnum,” you shot back. He grinned at the mention of them and patted you on the shoulder before turning around and jogging to where Caroline and Helen were waiting. Their eyes lit up with glee as they tackled their father in a hug.

 

Phillip slipped his hand discreetly into yours and turned you around. “The others are waiting,” he said. You remembered what was going on and allowed him to lead you over to the troupe, positioning yourself in the spot that you knew all too well from the rehearsals before.

 

The crowd settled down around you and Charity finally made her way inside with the few stragglers. Phillip looked over at you, nodded once, and you both took a deep breath.

 

_ Colossal we come, these renegades in the ring! _

_ Where the lost get found in the crown of the circus king! _ __   
  


The show started and the bliss you’d felt during the rehearsals and while watching it from the audience didn’t hold a candle to this. The lights, the fire, the dancing, the singing - everything attacked you in sensory overload and you were part of it,  _ this was really happening. _

 

Phillip and you were a perfect match for each other. Your humor bounced off easily as you tried to outwit the other by showing off progressively more and more spectacular acts. Fire danced around you and the light flaring off the metals in the ring was even more spectacular when you were in the heat of it all.

 

You ran through the show just like any other rehearsal, and by the end of it the sheer exuberance of it all had you sweaty and panting, but you still belted out the lyrics like your life depended on it. The crowd was going wild; you doubted they suspected you were a woman yet, and although you still felt oddly trapped in this suit, you were in your element now. It was basically like a magic show, only more dangerous and somehow more surreal than anything else you had ever put on.

 

The show began to wind down and everyone posed just like they had practiced.

 

Phillip grabbed your hand just like you had practiced.

 

The crowd went wild, just like you had imagined it in your head. Phineas and the girls all cheered from their small little corner, their appreciative calls echoing the loudest (although it might’ve just seemed that way because you were listening for theirs specifically.)

 

However, what came after was something you never would’ve expected.

 

You and Phillip saw the last of the audience out of the tent. The few protestors still there spat at your feet and left, but that was to be expected. You managed a laugh with Phillip at their incessant anger, exhausted and wanting to collapse into your bed with a nice glass of wine and maybe a bath if you could muster up the energy to.

 

You headed up to the office to change out of your uniform. Just as you ducked behind the clothing rack, though, Phillip grabbed your shoulder and turned you around.

 

“What - “

 

His lips crashed onto yours. You took a moment to realize what was going on, but quickly sank into the moment and threw your cane and hat down onto the ground. You could taste the sweat on his face and, although it was more of a smell than anything, the heat of the fire still on his skin.

 

He pulled away, catching his breath, and stared into your eyes. His irises looked even bluer up close. “Is this okay?” he asked, breathless.

 

You nodded slowly, still in a daze. Still, you managed to form a comprehensible sentence. “It is, but…”

 

“Are you sure we’re not moving too fast?” Damn him, he knew exactly what you were going to say.

 

“I don’t know. But...quite frankly, that’s okay.” You rested your forehead on his shoulder and let out a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen if I’m honest.”

 

His chest buzzed with his own laughter and he rested his hands on your hips, more comfortable and at ease than you had ever seen him. “Well, I’m glad you waited, then.”

  
  



	8. All An Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas showing up at your house to show you your ringmaster outfit also turns into Phineas taking you with him to the bar to meet up with Phillip and Lettie.

You would’ve had a calm and quiet morning had it not been shattered by the incessant banging on the door.

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!”

 

The banging ceased and you huffed, throwing your cleaning rag over your shoulder as you opened the door. Phineas was standing on your doorstep, practically touching the threshold, and beaming. He was holding something in a bag, which was hanging off his right arm.

 

“Glad you finally answered!” he said, cheerful despite the early hour he had shown up at. “May I come in?”

 

You nodded, taken aback, and stepped aside to grant him permission. He swept inside, bringing a breeze with him, and turned to face you as you closed the door. “What did you come here for?” you asked, genuinely curious to see what he would say.

 

In answer, he held out the bag. “We finished your ringmaster outfit!”

 

You gasped and clasped your hands together with a wide grin. “Really?” He offered the bag to you and you took it gingerly, looking inside. Indeed, there was a red outfit with golden buttons, and you could barely contain your excitement.

 

You pulled the outfit out and held it in front of you, letting the bag fall to the ground. Phineas watched you expectantly as you stared at the outfit. It was an echo of Phillip’s own attire, with the crimson jacket and bright accents. Instead of the black pants and white dress shirt, though, it was a long black dress with a flowing skirt.

 

“Phineas, it’s beautiful,” you said in awe. You set it down carefully on the table next to you and tackled the man in a hug. He let out a laugh and reciprocated the hug, patting you on the back as you pulled away. “Thank you so much!”

 

“It was my pleasure,” he replied with a flourish of a bow. “Now, go try it on! I need to make sure the measurements are all correct, and it’ll be fun to tell Phillip that I saw you wearing it before he did.”

 

You rolled his eyes at the immature wish but did nothing to dissuade him as you grabbed the outfit and walked into your bedroom. You closed the door tightly behind you and quickly pulled the dress and jacket on, relishing the feel of the fabric washing over your legs and the comforting heaviness of the jacket. You twirled a few times, marveling at how the skirt flowed, then walked out to show Phineas.

 

He whistled in approval and clapped for you. “Well, I’d say that I did a  _ pretty _ decent job, don’t you think?” His eyebrows quirked in mock humility as he emphasized the word ‘pretty’ in his sentence, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. You could practically see him glowing with pride at his work. “Wow, you’re definitely going to be the showstopper of the evening tonight.”

 

“That I am,” you replied with a good-natured wink. Phineas chuckled and looked down at his watch, humming thoughtfully.

 

“I was heading to the bar to enjoy a drink with Phillip and Lettie,” he said, glancing up at you. “Don’t mind the fact that it’s not even eleven. Would you care to join?”

 

“I had no other plans, and it’s been a while since I’ve had a drink this early.” You paused and shrugged. “Why not? Is it the same bar you accosted me in?”

 

“Well, I hardly think of it as accostment. I think I just managed to convince you with my dashing good looks and never-ending charm.” You pretended to gag, making Phineas fake hurt. “My pride is injured.”

 

“As if you had any to begin with,” you teased. “Let me change back into more appropriate attire. I’m sure there’s some bread or something in the kitchen you can help yourself to.”

 

He went to the kitchen to attack the few slices of bread you had left while you went into your bedroom to put on your casual dress instead. Seeing as how you’d be with people this time instead of going by yourself, you weren’t too worried about actually getting accosted by anyone, so you allowed yourself the brief comfort.

 

Phineas looked up from a crumb-filled napkin and raised his eyebrows. “I like to think that this is a new look,” he joked, gesturing to his vest, which was peppered with little white dots from the bread. You sighed in disappointment and walked out of your apartment, hearing his footsteps as he hurried to follow after you.

 

When you arrived at the bar, Phillip and Lettie were already waiting inside. Their faces brightened as you walked over, Phillip planting a kiss on your cheek. Lettie snickered at Phineas’ horrified expression.

 

“Are you alright?” Phineas asked you, sounding panicked. “Phillip didn’t put you under a spell to fall in love with him, right?”

 

You stared blankly at him. “Oh of course,” you said, keeping your voice monotone. “I’m now his faithful lover, for him to do whatever he pleases with.”   
  


Phineas wagged his finger at Phillip as he sat down on a barstool next to him. “You naughty, naughty boy. I thought we talked about witchcraft earlier. That has no place here.”

 

Phillip quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re saying the circus does?”

 

“Well, it’s all a matter of perception.”

 

Lettie called the bartender over and he poured out four shots of whiskey. You each grabbed one, clicked your glasses together in a toast, and tossed it back in one gulp. The familiar sensation worked down to your stomach and you let out a content sigh. Phillip was right about the taste - you still never got over the mild bitterness of the whiskey they sold here - but it was comforting to be back here.

 

Phillip was sipping at his slowly. “Ah, I remember this bar,” he said, at first sounding fond of the memory but then glaring at Phineas. “This was where you accosted me after the play and forced me to come to join the circus.”

 

“I see two problems with that statement.” Phineas held up a finger as he finished his glass. “The first is that she said I accosted her as well, but in reality, both of you didn’t do much to stop me. The second is that you seemed rather eager to run away and join the circus, and I think we both know why.”   
  


Lettie rolled her eyes and hailed the bartender for another round, her glass having been emptied already as well. “You are both children,” she muttered, although her expression contradicted her words. You rested your chin on your hands and watched Phineas and Phillip’s banter amusedly, tensing when a trio of familiar men came into the bar.

 

“Heads up,” you muttered under your breath to the others. Phineas looked over his shoulder and an unreadably cold expression worked over his face.

 

The protestors noticed your small group and made their way over. Phillip grabbed Phineas’ arm. “Don’t start a fight in here,” he whispered. “We can’t let them have another reason to rally people against us.”

 

“I know, I know,” Phineas replied off-handedly. “It shouldn’t be a problem to diffuse the situation with our wit combined.”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Phillip murmured, not having any more time to argue with Phineas as the lead protestor walked up and crossed his arms.

 

“Ah, you out with your little ragtag team of freaks?” he asked, trying to look threatening but earning no more than an eye roll from you in reaction. You’d heard that insult used far too many times for it to have an effect on you anymore. “Funny, the last time we saw you...when was it, back when the fire hit?”

 

Phillip tensed at the mention of the fire and you reached over to put a hand on the small of his back, making sure to keep it out of sight from the man. You didn’t want to give him any leverage, just in case he decided to take the conversation down a different path.

 

“Yes, the fire that you and your ragtag team of protestors caused,” Phineas replied, keeping his manner calm. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you would kindly get out of our faces. The stench you bring with you is offensive.”

 

The man spread his arms out wide. “This is public domain, ain’t it?” His grin stretched at his face grotesquely and his eyebrows drew together in barely suppressed rage. “We aren’t hurting you, and we have a right to be here. More than you, anyway.”

 

Lettie bristled. “And what, sir, is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Ah, nothing if you don’t read in between the lines.” He turned his nose up at her, and you had no doubt that if you weren’t in a building, he would’ve spat at her. “Which I doubt you’d have the mental capacity to do.”

 

Phillip finally spoke up, his voice taut. “It’s funny that you would say that when your words have the stench of hypocrisy as well,” he said, “seeing as how you weren’t intelligent enough to keep the fight to fists and instead risked burning you and your men with your idiocy.”

 

“Keep your mouth shut, Carlyle,” the man growled. He finally took notice of the hand you kept on Phillip’s back. “I see you’ve found yourself a mistress. Shame you’re dirtying your family’s name by associating with such a low-class woman.”

 

You and Phineas had to keep Phillip from attacking the man. “Not. Here,” Phineas muttered in Phillip’s ear. “Remember your words, Phillip. We don’t want them to have the upper hand, should anyone in this bar decide to look over at the wrong time.”

 

Phillip was tense under your grip, but finally, he relaxed and sat back in his seat. His spine was still stiff and his mouth was pulled into a thin white line, but with Phineas’ reminder, you doubted he would attempt to attack them.

 

“Let’s just go ahead and head back to the circus,” Lettie finally said after a moment of Phillip and Phineas staring daggers at the man, and vice versa. “Wouldn’t want these poor men to be seen with a bunch of ‘freaks’ with more class than them.”

 

The man’s face was turning red with rage, but it seemed that they too were worried about what the public would say should they attack you, because they backed off and allowed you and the others to leave. You didn’t miss the contemptuous glare the last man shot at you, nor the way he spat at your feet as the door closed behind you.

 

Phillip finally relaxed as you were out of sight of the building. “I can’t believe they would speak so nonchalantly of the fire that almost claimed so many lives,” he growled. You knew the fire was a sore spot for everyone, but you still had no idea about how it started in the first place, nor why Phineas never spoke about the events leading up to it.

 

“We kept our cool, that’s all that matters,” Phineas said, putting a hand on Phillip’s shoulder. The brunet licked his lips and finally let out his rage in a sharp exhale. “There you go. Anyway, I think we should actually head back to the circus tent, see if there’s anything that needs fixing before the show starts.”

 

Lettie nodded and walked with Phineas, but you were stopped in your tracks with Phillip grabbing onto your arm. The other two took no notice of your pause, walking ahead and chatting comfortably between themselves.

 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Phillip took a deep breath and finally looked at you in the eyes, taking your hand in his.

 

“I hope you know that you’re not just a mistress to me,” he said. “I would never do that to you.”

 

You smiled and put your hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. You had to keep your display of affection to a minimum, though; even though there weren’t that many people around, the few that were on the streets were staring at the two of you in distaste. “Was that really what you were worried about?” you teased, starting to walk along with him. “I know you would never do that.”

 

Phillip finally cracked a smile. “I was just making sure.”

 

You rolled your eyes as you turned the corner, squeezing his hand gently.

  
  



	9. You Can Shake Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The show didn't quite end the way you expected it to, and quite frankly, you'd have taken any other ending besides the one you were given.

When you retreated back to your apartment to change into your ringmaster attire, you felt that familiar rush of electricity run down your spine. The dress fit you perfectly and you took a few more practice twirls in it, savoring the feeling of the fabric brushing up against your legs. A content smile worked across your face. You grabbed your top hat and cane and rushed out the door.

 

People were more intense with their glares this time around, probably because they recognized the familiar patterns on your uniform. This was one of the only times in your life that you could confidently say you didn’t care at all about what they said as you ran down the sidewalk, dodging out of the way of people as you passed and slowly but surely nearing the bright circus lights.

 

You arrived at the tent in a blaze of glory, and it was as though time had stopped for a moment. Everyone turned to look and you first saw Phillip’s reaction, which was about as rich as you’d hoped - his jaw dropped ever so slightly and he did away with his calm exterior long enough for the others to notice.

 

Charles recovered quickly and began teasing Phillip, which pulled the flurry of activity into full swing. Anne, Lettie, and Charity rushed over to you, fawning over your appearance and soon looping Phineas in to praise him for his work. As always, he worked to remain humble, but you could see the glow of satisfaction and pride in his eyes as he made sure everything was still in working order.

 

Finally, they dispersed, and Phillip wandered over. To a casual observer it would look like he was simply admiring your outfit, but if they were to step any closer the way his blue eyes were glowing with something close to desire would become apparent.

 

“You look stunning,” he whispered. You smirked and ran a hand through your hair, looking over to the circus troupe. Lettie caught your eye and winked. “Phineas did a great job with your outfit.”

 

“I’d hope so,” you replied. “If I’m going to incur the wrath of an army of protestors, I might as well do it in style.”

 

Phillip winced. Both of you knew that your words probably held more truth than you’d like to admit. “Regardless, it’s almost time to start putting the finishing touches.” He was right; you could hear the hustle and bustle outside, and you felt adrenaline begin to course through your body.

 

The two of you made your rounds, making sure everyone was ready to perform, and finally you made your way to the back area. Phillip was turning his hat around on his hands and you found yourself doing the same, running your thumbs across the well-worn edges. Hopefully, your father’s hat would bring the luck it never did to him…

 

It didn’t seem like that long before the lights all turned to face your small group and the audience hushed. White noise filled your ears and for a moment you feared you would pass out, but just as quickly the sensation passed and you belted out the first lyrics in a strong voice.

 

The reaction of the crowd was delayed, but soon enough people started cheering. It wasn’t enough to drown out the boo’s coming from the crowd, and quite frankly you were okay with that. You thrived off of negativity, after all, so you found yourself grinning wider and spinning with more bravado. You incorporated more hat and cane twirls into your repertoire and found yourself at the third (and most likely final) stage of glee - the one where everything seemed to fit right into place and you felt like you could do anything in the world right now, no matter how blocked or dangerous it seemed.

 

Your enthusiasm was contagious; if you had anything to say about it, you guessed that tonight’s show was probably the best one in a long time, not only because of how flawlessly the acts were pulled off but the energy that buzzed in the air. If excitement had a sound besides cheers and applause, you’d assign it to this contagious atmosphere that pervaded the tent.

 

Phineas and Charity caught your eye more than a few times and you saw that they were both smiling, laughing, and dancing with their daughters. Caroline was mimicking your dancing with the grace of a ballerina, and while Helen was nowhere near as graceful, she made up for it in enthusiasm.

 

Finally, you held out the last chord with the rest of the troupe, and Phillip caught your hand to raise it high above both of your heads. You locked eyes with him and found that, although he was glistening with sweat and breathing heavily, he looked so handsome at this very moment you had to resist the urge to kiss him. He seemed to be struggling with the same thoughts, judging by the tightening of his grip on yours, but finally, you took a sweeping bow to the excitement of the audience.

 

Still, you found yourself tensing automatically at the hisses of the protestors. You took a casual look around the audience as they began to file out and saw that they were hovering in their spots, exchanging words while glaring over their shoulders towards you and the others. Phillip had yet to let go of your hand and you were grateful for the extra support and protection.

 

While the circus troupe retreated to change out of their uniforms and settle in for the night, Phineas and Lettie made their way over to you. “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!” Phineas roared, coming in front of you and blocking your view of the protestors behind him. You managed a smile as he clasped a firm hand on your shoulder, rattling off praises that went in one ear and out the other.

 

He moved to talk to Phillip and you saw that the protestors had cleared out. You let out a sigh of relief and turned to talk to the other three, quickly catching onto their conversation.

 

“I’m going to need to head upstairs and grab some papers from the office,” Phineas said, glancing down at his watch. “You three deserve some downtime. I’ll take care of the finances for tonight, go have some fun!”

 

Phillip quirked an eyebrow. “And should I really trust you to look over that by yourself?” he teased. “Let me come upstairs with you. I doubt you’d even be able to find them, it’s been so long since you’ve looked at our bills.”

 

Phineas scoffed. “Please, I know my way around my office, even though it’s old.” He turned to you and Lettie. “Can you two wait down here for a moment? I’m sure that Charity wouldn’t mind us having a small dinner over at our home; the girls have been begging for you to stop by.”

 

You grinned. “Of course, we’ll be waiting right here.” Lettie nodded along to your words and the two men turned to disappear up the stairs.

 

Lettie raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I saw Phillip staring at you before the show,” she said. “That didn’t seem like any normal conversation there.”

 

You felt your face warm and turned to hide it. “Really, it was nothing,” you said, telling the truth...well, mostly. “He was just complimenting my appearance and Phineas’ handiwork.”

 

“Yes, Phineas is a good tailor,” Lettie agreed with a boisterous laugh. “How have you been settling in this past week or so? You’ve been doing a great job from what I’ve seen. Not many people can say they’ve adjusted this quickly.”

 

“It’s...chaotic, to say the least.” Lettie hummed in agreement and stroked her beard while waiting for you to gather your thoughts. “Everyone’s so incredibly welcoming, though. I’ve been able to be myself here more than I have anywhere else, inside or outside of my apartment.”

 

“The circus really can do that for you.” Her expression turned serious and she took your hand gently. “Also...I wanted to say thank you for talking some sense into Phillip. He’d been spiraling down recently and meeting you helped change that.”

 

You smiled softly and squeezed her hand. “It’s my pleasure. He’s been so kind to me lately and I’d be a horrible person if I didn’t return the favor as well as I’m able to - “

 

Your conversation was interrupted by a loud  _ clunk _ from the office and the sound of cursing. Lettie rolled her eyes and put her hand on your shoulder. “Those two really need a babysitter by the sound of it. I’ll be upstairs if you need me, okay? Holler if anything happens.”

 

She disappeared upstairs and you retrieved your hat and cane from where they’d been laying, twirling them in your hands and humming the melody to one of your favorite songs. However, you felt something in your gut twist. Something wasn’t right.

 

Before you could turn, a pair of hands roughly grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you back into an unfamiliar body. The hands moved, one over your mouth and the other to secure around your torso, and you struggled helplessly against their grip.

 

“You didn’t think we’d leave so easily, huh, girlie?” the lead protestor from the bar hissed in your ear. “If so, you really are a little too big for your britches.”

 

Your blood ran cold as the protestors fanned out. Three of them walked to the base of the stairs, hiding to where anyone coming down wouldn’t be able to see them. Two more came out from behind the man, providing him with backup just in case you managed to get out of his grip.

 

You continued to struggle, coming close to biting down on the hand of your captor, but only being rewarded by a painful tug of your neck. You felt your muscles stretch and winced, sagging ever so slightly to relieve the pressure.

 

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed in your ear, the scent of stale alcohol making your head spin. “Now, what would be even  _ better _ is if you stayed quiet and let the men take care of your friends. See, we aren’t quite happy about what your little ragtag team of freaks has been doing to our city. A little...quality time might help persuade you.”

 

You knew immediately that their definition of quality time was going to involve a lot of violence and you resumed your efforts to escape. He had no difficulty in keeping you hostage, but you could feel his grip around your mouth slowly beginning to loosen. If you could just free your arms, you could elbow him in the side…

 

Phillip called your name, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the top floor. You were forced to retreat a few steps, getting out of his line of sight.

 

His voice came, a little more uneasy, and you took that chance to stomp down on the man’s foot. He let out a pained cry and you wrenched your way free, taking the opportunity to shout, “Phillip, be careful!”

 

Before you could escape, the man’s elbow smashed against the back of your skull so hard you swore you saw stars. You stumbled forward and he grabbed onto both of your arms, holding them tightly behind your back and making sure he was out of reach from your feet this time.

 

Your warning wasn’t in vain, though. Phillip went silent and the three protestors under the stairs looked at each other in confusion. They fanned out around the base of the stairs and you held back a sigh of relief as Phineas and Lettie bounded down the stairs and each took out a protestor.

 

You wrenched your body quickly to the side and heard your captor let out a startled yell. Taking the opportunity, you freed your grip and ran toward the others, feeling your headache grow with every step and feeling dread trickle down your back. Whatever happened, this fight wasn’t going to be easy.

  
  



	10. Maybe the World Could Be Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For now, you were all safe, and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is a really abrupt ending but i have no clue how to continue it from here, so uhh...yeah. woo 10 chapters though

Phillip caught you as you stumbled over to him and put you behind his back. "Are you okay?" he asked over the general chaos, watching to make sure that Lettie and Phineas had the protestors occupied before turning fully to you. "You look dazed." Then, his gaze turned dark, and he narrowed his eyes at your assailant, who was stumbling over in a drunken haze. "Did he hit you?"

 

You nodded slowly, not sure what Phillip would do with that information.

 

He put a gentle kiss on your forehead, then rolled up his dress sleeves and charged the man. Neither you nor the man saw it coming, and as a result, the latter was easily tackled to the ground by Phillip. Lettie and Phineas sent the others off in a hurry, as the two performers were livid at what had just happened. Lettie came over to you and put an arm protectively around your shoulders, while Phineas guarded the two of you in case the protestors came back and tried to attack you.

 

Phillip was currently gaining the upper hand in his small duel against the drunken protestor. He was raining down a flurry of punches on his target in a rage you'd never seen him in before. Quite frankly, you were in awe. This charming young man, the one that had so easily won you over with his honeyed words, the one that had flinched back in fear against his father's anger, was able to hold his own in a fight against a man that had at least three inches taller and a sizeable amount of weight on him.

 

Sadly, that was to be his downfall; in his anger, the man under him, almost bruised to the point of anonymity, was able to push Phillip off of him. His freshly healed bruising from his father's hand was soon overtaken by the man's fists, which were less damaging than Mr. Carlyle's signet ring but all the more deadly.

 

"Phillip!" you cried, struggling against Lettie's hold. She kept you by your side, having already noticed your lack of equilibrium, and it frustrated you that she was able to hold you so well. "Let me go!"

 

Phineas and Lettie made eye contact, and that was all the ringmaster needed to stride forward, grab Phillip's attacker by the jacket, and yank him off the younger man. Phillip lay there, slowly getting up and sporting a fresh series of bruises, scattered across his face like a sick constellation. He blinked, not seeming to comprehend what was going on in front of him.

 

You managed to break free from Lettie and race over to Phillip, skidding on the ground and gently cupping his face in your hands. Your headache was starting to pound even more, as though an insistent bass drum was fashioned inside of your head. However, you ignored it and fretted over Phillip, hearing a single grunt from behind you that signified Phineas' victory.

 

He walked over to both of you, a faded bruise on his jaw and his knuckles with a similar pattern. "Phillip, how badly are you hurt?" he asked, crouching beside you.

 

Phillip managed a small laugh. "I've seen better days, but I'll live." He accepted Phineas' hand up and helped you up as well. You squinted against the dim circus lights - had they always been this bright?

 

Lettie was the first to notice this. She said your name softly, reaching out to wave her hand in your face when you felt your knees buckle beneath you. "Whoa!"

 

Phillip supported you against his body and Lettie tutted. "I think the poor girl has a concussion from that dimwitted protestor," she muttered. "Phillip, can you help her back up to the office? I'll go get the circus doctor, see if she'll have anything to help her." Phineas made to follow her out of the ring, but Lettie stopped him with a firm glare. "You'd better go with them as well. Your jaw's going to need some icing and I doubt the bruising on your knuckles is very healthy."

 

Phineas reluctantly agreed, and the two of them helped you back up to the office. Once there, they lay you across the couch and you closed your eyes almost immediately, letting out a quiet sight. "I'm sorry, you two," you murmured, your words slightly jumbled together as you fought off a wave of nausea. "You're stuck looking after me, I guess."

 

They both chuckled tiredly. Phineas retreated to a corner of the office to open up an icebox, a commodity you didn't have in your simple apartment but one you were glad was there. He wrapped some ice up in a towel for Phillip to rest on his face, then dunked his hands into the box.

 

"It's nothing to worry about," Phillip said, perching on the side of the sofa. His voice was slightly muffled by the ice on his face. "I don't think I'd be able to do anything with this bruising anyway, as much as I hate to admit it."

 

"Luckily, I'm more useful," Phineas teased, "but he's right. Out of all of us, I think you might have the worst injury, so it's good that we're looking after you."

 

Time passed in comfortable silence at Phineas' closing comment, only broken once footsteps paraded up the stairs. The door opened, first letting in Lettie, then a pretty brunette by the name of Lara, who'd been happy to tend to the circus injuries that were bound to happen. There were very few doctors in New England that would even be willing to affiliate with you and the others; it was a stroke of luck that you found one who was both willing and did it for a reasonable price.

 

She strolled over to you, inspecting Phillip first then turning so she could put her medical equipment on the floor. She retrieved a small vial full of little particles that you didn't recognize; after all, most of your remedies consisted of cheap apothecaries and snow when it was available. You watched curiously as she poured water into the bag, swirled it around a little, then nodded.

 

"When I put this under your nose, I want you to inhale as deep as you can," she instructed after sitting you upright. You were still a little dazed but you nodded.

 

When you breathed in, the smell that attacked you wasn't one that you were expecting; that is to say, you didn't smell anything at all. Instead, your nose began to burn viciously, and you let out a small noise of surprise as your fatigue faded. You still felt nauseated and the headache hadn't been helped much, but you felt wide awake.

 

"It's called smelling salts," she explained, corking the vial and putting it back into her bag. She withdrew a bottle and a small shot glass. She poured a small bit into it and handed it to you, took it back, then did the same to Phillip and finally Phineas. Lettie had been the least injured from your little scuffle, only sporting minor bruises on her knuckles. The lady had a powerful slap, you had to give it to her.

 

The laudanum was working well, soothing your headache and combating against the smelling salts to make your energy return to normal. Phillip and Phineas weren't so lucky, though. The latter was already knocked out, Lettie having to go over and pull his hands out of the cooler, and the former was starting to nod off on the sofa.

 

Lara laughed under her breath and packed up her bag, giving you one last inspection. "If the headache starts to come back, use a milder opiate than the laudanum," she said. "We don't want you getting addicted to it, especially with your job and all. As for the impact area, some snow should do the trick, just make sure that you change it out every two hours or so."

 

You and Lettie thanked Lara, and she left. "Alright, let's get these two onto the couch," she said, helping you stand up. Phillip was already knocked out, the ice on his face balanced because of the way he was sleeping.

 

The two of you fashioned Phillip and Phineas into comfortable sleeping positions, lying them so their heads were on opposite ends of the sofa and a single blanket sufficed to cover both of them. Phineas was a little harder to maneuver because of his height, but you managed to make it to where neither of them would be falling off (at least, you hoped so.)

 

Lettie let out a sigh and smiled. "You doing alright?" she asked, putting her hand on your shoulder.

 

You nodded and returned her smile. "Yeah, I'll be fine after I get some rest," you replied. "Thank God you three were still here, otherwise we would've been in a lot of trouble."

 

Lettie patted your back and walked out, you giving the two sleeping men a final glance before walking down the stairs with her.

 

Your assailant was knocked out in the center of the ring, and you felt a chill run down your spine as you remembered the way his hands had felt on your body. It was, hands down, one of the creepiest things you'd ever experienced, but the idea had you wondering...what if...

 

You shook the idea out of your head and helped Lettie tie the man up. The others were long gone and so you'd only have this man when the police came, but hopefully it would be enough to stop an attack from happening again, at least for a little while. That was probably the best you could hope for, but you still hoped it would be a long time before something else occurred.

 

 _At least we're safe for now,_ you thought to yourself, watching the moon above you with Lettie by your side and Phillip and Phineas behind you in the tent. You took in a deep breath and shuffled closer to Lettie, finally feeling at peace for the first time in your life.

 

**o o o**

**end**

**o o o**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a #WEAKASS ending, but like i said, no sé cómo terminar esto. (oh my god my spanish teacher would be sO PrOUD oF ME...for using google translate sfhjalskfhd)
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed this small little novella, and if you enjoy detroit: become human or the umbrella academy i suggest that you check out my other fanfics. take care y'all, buh bye <3


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